Sweet Dreams
by moviemaniac12
Summary: After being submitted to the Shadehouse Institution for the Mentally Insane, the infamous Inception team realise they are living a horrifying hell. They know that they have to survive and escape...or they really will loose their sanity. HEAVY ANGST!
1. Prolouge

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

"After extensive physical and mental tests…"

Eames inhaled slowly, as if filling his body with air could keep him afloat.

"…And regular emotional therapy…"

Arthur's fist clenched.

"…The Board of the Shadehouse Institute of Mental Health has decided…"

Ariadne blinked back, her eyes desperately trying to hold back the tears.

"…To keep you all in the psychiatric hospital in the Asylum for the Insane, until your mental health record proves stable."

Cobb shut his eyes as tight as they could go, and sighed.

The white haired, blue eyed man behind the desk, his face stony and un-emotive, looked down at his neatly typed papers and frowned. He looked back up at the four figures, each handcuffed, and silently suffering of their own accord.

He cleared his throat. "Right now you will be taken to the institute for submission. Do you have any statements you with to make at this time?"

After a brief moment of silence, Cobb stepped forward slowly.

"…We're not insane. There's nothing _mentally _wrong with us," he hissed.

The man shifted in his seat. "Well Mr Cobb, all the evidence proves against you."

"We're not liars!" Ariadne snapped, a few tears escaping from their chamber and flowing down her cheeks.

"You believe that you can, and I quote "Extract information from a persons dream, where their subconscious is at it's most vulnerable." He leaned forward from his desk slightly. "Not to get personal, but that doesn't sound very _sane _to me." He looked to the side and nodded. "Take them away."

Quickly, men in uniform were behind the four, grabbing their arms, as if they were about to attack.

Arthur struggled against their grip. "No! This isn't right! There's nothing wrong with us!" he yelled, eyes burning in fury.

"Take them away, now!"

Cobb could do nothing but allow himself to be dragged away. He felt a numbness spread through his being, taking over his body and mind. _Insane. _The word rung through him like a knife. All he could see were the disgusted faces of the people in the room, staring, judging them from some facts on a piece of paper. All he could hear were the variated screams of his team members, as they were dragged away into the oblivion.

If it was on a fucking piece of paper, then it must be true.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

* * *

As Ariadne sat in the hard plastic chairs, she looked around her. It was an architect's nightmare. The dull grey walls were peeling, as if they hadn't been painted for years, and everything was achingly simple. There were no sharp objects in the room, she noted. Nothing that could be used as a type of weaponry.

She felt sick. Right down to the pit of her stomach, there was a dull ache that didn't seem to die down. Surely this wasn't reality? It _had_ to be a dream. She felt a sharp sinking feeling in her chest as she remembered that they took away her totem. They took away everything, not even leaving a small amount of something she called courage.

Mentally insane? They were far from it. She couldn't understand why nobody would listen to them.

Before them, lay a long white table, seating 4 people, who all looked at them in clear disgust and amusement. They weren't hiding it very well.

"So," the first woman said. Her hands were clasped together tightly on the table, and her black hair was scraped back into a high ponytail. She wore the same attire as everyone else in the room. White. Sickeningly white, crisp clothing. She looked up and took in their dirty appearances before looking back down at a file, eyebrow raised. "Here we have Dominic Cobb…Arthur Falcone…Jonathan Eames…Ariadne Peterson."

A man on the table coughed. He looked like he should _be _in the asylum as opposed to running it. Small, twitchy guy, obviously no great care for personal hygiene.

"They were placed together under the custody of the institute around 2 weeks ago. Results show extreme delusion, out of control emotive response and violent reactions."

Why were they talking about them as if they weren't here? Ariadne shifted in her seat.

Another man leaned forward. He was bigger, burlier than the other man. Ariadne hated him already. His eyes were dark, haunting and she didn't even want to know what they'd seen. His greasy brown hair was gelled back, as if he was _somebody. _

He looked at them for a moment. "My name is Doctor Roberts, I'm the main doctor and manager of this establishment." He spoke slowly and clearly, as if he were talking to children. "Your submission here will continue for as long as it has to, until your tests prove otherwise."

"You will be searched and tested for any contraband, everyday," the woman said, keeping her attention on the papers in front of her. "If your behaviour persists to be uncontrollable or angry, we will sedate you and place you in containment." She looked up, her face stony. "If the behaviour continues, more...extreme actions will be taken."

"You have been submitted together," the twitchy guy said. "But you will serve your sentence apart."

"Any questions?"

There was silence. Ariadne hated the silence. She had a thousand questions, but none she believed would help her case at all.

"Yes, Mr Eames."

Eames remained still in his seat, like stone. "Yeah…are we even going to get a chance to prove that we're not crazy?"

Roberts cleared this throat. "Mr Eames…from these results, there is no need for you to prove anything."

"What results? We're not insane, we're not lying! Everything we said is true!" Eames snapped, and Ariadne could hear something in his voice she'd never heard before. Fear. It didn't suit him.

"You're all living the same delusion," Roberts countered, just as bitterly. "You _can't _go into people's dreams, that's just not possible. The sooner you accept that, the better. Look at these results, you said you were a…Forger?"

Eames looked to the ground, silent once more.

"And you, Mr Cobb, you said you were an…"

"Extractor," Cobb sighed.

"Oh, and here's my favourite…Architect?"

Ariadne looked up to find his mocking gaze upon her.

His face twisted into some sort of amusement. "What's in that job description?"

Ariadne swallowed. "…I…I design dreams…create the world…"

"Exactly. We have a definition of sanity here. You all just don't fit the description," he hissed.

"Now. From this point on, you are no longer _normal _citizens," the woman rolled the word on her tongue, as if it were a new disease. "You are pacients of the Shadehouse Mental Institution, and you will act as such."

Ariadne looked to the door as 4 large men walked in. Ah, the control.

"Today you will be submitted to more tests to confirm what level you will be considered as. Take them out of here."

As she felt a large pair of hands pulling her from her seat, Ariadne winced slightly and pulled back from them.

"Don't struggle. Make it easy on yourself," she heard a deep voice say from behind her.

She then allowed herself to be taken away, pulled out of her room. As they were taken down a corridor, she realised it would only seen to get worse. Things were darker, empty.

As they walked down the empty hallway, Ariadne looked at the endless abiss of doors. Each labeled _Submission Room 03, Submission Room 04..._It never seemed to end.

She felt herself jump slightly as she heard a toe curling scream from one of the rooms. Endless sobbing. Ariadne found herself surprised that she wasn't the one screaming.

They were pushed into a room, and forced onto a set of chairs, which Ariadne noted were no more comfortable than the previous ones. It seemed to her that everything in this place was a hell with four walls.

"You first." She felt a quick prod on her back. "Get up."

She quickly stood up, not daring to make eye contact with the others. One look would break her into oblivion. She knew she wouldn't even be able to find an ounce of comfort in Cobb's sharp blue eyes, or Eames piercing greys. Even Arthur's dark chocolate eyes. She felt her body go numb once more as she was guided into the next room. As she entered, she realised she was alone once more. Grey walls burnt at her eyes, the hard concreate hard under her feet. A single light from the ceiling, flickered, taunting her.

"Miss Peterson."

She turned around quickly and saw 2 women walk in with a few items in their hands. She couldn't see what they were, but she had a feeling they weren't to her benefit. They seemed like nurses, the women, and one of them looked at her with some tinge of genuine sympathy, whilst the other looked at her in shame. Ariadne saw that they were both wearing light blue scrubs, identical to one another. It was all so robotic.

"Miss Peterson, can you understand me?" one of them asked.

Ariadne nodded shakily.

"Good." She held up some clothing in her hand. "Would you like to change yourself? Or do you want us to do it for you?"

Ariadne quickly reached for the clothing. "I can do it," she quietly said. She waited for them to disappear, but they didn't. They simply hung around, expectantly.

"Can I…have some privacy?" Ariadne asked.

One of the women made a small laughing sound at the back of her throat. "Nice try. Just hurry up, we've got more people to deal with."

Ariadne swallowed. She felt her hand shaking as she pulled off her scarf. She'd never felt so judged in her life. Humiliation crept upon her as she hastily removed her shirt, quickly replacing it with the one she had been given. It took all she had not to burst into tears as she removed her jeans and kicked them onto the cold floor.

"Cavity search. Over there."

Ariadne froze. She looked up in horror. "What?"

The less sympathetic nurse sighed in slight irritation. "Standard precaution. Over by the wall."

"No!" Ariadne snapped, recoiling as if she had been burnt.

"Do you need sedation?"

"Just leave me alone!" she cried, feeling the tears finally make their escape down her cheeks. "I don't belong here!"

The slightly kinder nurse approached her slowly. "It's alright. The quicker you calm down, the quicker we can-"

"Let me go!" Ariadne sobbed as she felt the returning retraining grasp on her arms. "Cobb! Wake me up! Wake me up!"

"That's it, I've had enough. Sedation!" she heard a voice snap.

"No! Please!"

As Cobb heard the frantic shrieks and screams from the room, he shuddered. He heard his name being called, among cries of help. But he knew he couldn't help. He couldn't do anything for his team now. He had got them into the inevitable end, and it was the frightening truth that they would lose their sanity.

If they weren't already crazy, like everyone had been suggesting.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**Just a quick note. As someone pointed out to me, mental illness and such is a very sensitive subject, and I just want to say that I do not intend to insult or stereotype anything. This is all in my head, and obviously I am not suggesting that mental institutions are in this condition, but this is all how I picture the story, and anything I describe it is simply the way I am picturing it for the story.**

When Ariadne opened her eyes again, she was lying stiff on the ground. She rolled onto her front and whimpered into the ground. That was the first time she'd called for help and nobody had come.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

She felt a pair of hands pull her from her concrete rug and onto her feet. The sedative had made her vision fuzzy, and when she looked down she could see that she had been changed into a dark grey dress. It didn't feel right. It was uncomfortable and itchy against her skin, and she wondered if she wasn't the only person to have worn it. The thought made her squirm.

"Can you take her away please? We're done."

She was pulled away out of the room, and through another hallway. As she began to hear more screams, she wondered if that was what she sounded like to an outsider's eye. She began to feel numb, as if her body was beginning to give up any fight that she may have tried. Her eyes focused on the sterile whiteness of the hallway floor, her ears could hear nothing but the sounds of squeaky clean shoes scraping against the tiles. Considerably different from the submission room, the place was becoming cleaner, more organised, more empty. It was as if they knew the first few places would scare the hell out of you.

And the end of the seemingly never ending hallway, they came to a door, almost like an emergency exit, but not quite so promising. Several bolts and locks held back any chance that someone might have of escape. As the man holding her back began to unlock the doorway, Ariadne found herself fearing what may be on the other side.

The air hit her like a cool wave. It seemed that nothing else could have mattered that moment but the fresh air filling into her lungs, taking the foul taste away that already lingered. She stiffened when she saw what was outside.

It was a garden. Kind of like something you would see in schools. Grass with patches of brown covered the area, surrounded by tall iron gates with threatening barbed wire holding back anything and anyone wanting to climb over. A few benches were scattered around, obviously trying to copy the theme of an average park, but the atmosphere was far from anything average.

There were lots of others. Carbon copies of each other, all wearing masses of grey clothing, walking around, being escorted by workers, ready to intervene with the slightest movement. Ariadne looked around.

Half of them didn't look like they should be there. But then the other half did.

A few people took Ariadne's attention away in particular. One was a woman, around mid 40's, pacing the garden, _talking to herself. _She looked perfectly content, seemingly enjoying the conversation with herself. Another younger looking man was sitting on the ground, staring up into the sky, tearing away clumps of grass with his hand.

Ariadne felt sorry for them, in a genuine way. She'd only been there around half an hour, and she was already feeling the force in her giving up. But she still couldn't understand. How were they considered on the same mental level as these people?

As she was led through the garden, she shivered, suddenly feeling how cold it was. How was it that the sky matched the building? Grey and lifeless.

"_Miss Peterson?"_

_Ariadne stared at the two men in uniform standing outside her apartment. They had stony faces, as if carrying a heavy burden or news that they didn't want to hear. She suddenly wondered if something horrible had happened. Had someone died? What if it was a member of the team? Cobb? Eames? Arthur?_

"_Yes, that's me," she said, opening the door a little further._

_One of them stepped forward slightly. "Miss Peterson, we need you to come with us. Please leave all your belongings here and try to remain calm."_

_Ariadne's eyebrows knitted together. "What?"_

"_We have authorisation to remove you from this residence, and have permission to use force if necessary."_

_Her grip around the door handle tightened. "Who are you?" she demanded._

"_We work for the Shadewood Institute for the Mentally Insane. We need to bring you to a court hearing, were we will determine what is to be done with you."_

"_What? Mentally insane…I…I don't know what you mean!"_

"_Please come with us Miss Peterson, we will have to use force if necessary."_

_Ariadne froze. Her totem. She slammed the door as hard as she could before running back inside, her bishop balancing on her desk. She reached to tip it, but felt a large pair of arms restrict her back. _

"_No! What are you doing?" she cried._

_One of the men turned to the other. "Handcuffs," he instructed._

"8:30."

Ariadne looked up. "What?"

The large man holding her sighed deeply. "You will be given your medication at 8:30, just before lights out."

"Medication?" she repeated. "Wha…I don't need-"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before. "I don't need it! I don't need it!" Well, you've got to take the god damn stuff, otherwise we'll force it down you," he hissed.

Ariadne blinked back a few tears. "But…" She silenced herself, knowing anything he would say would only make her more upset.

As they walked up the cobbled pathway, she took notice of the building. These people obviously didn't care where they shoved everyone. The outside of the large, old building was dirty, and the barred windows look like they hadn't been cleaned. Mind you, with iron bars holding back the damn things, who needs clean windows?

As he pushed open the door, Ariadne felt like she wanted to pass out.

It was all the same. The same overly sterile walls and floor, the sickening white and grey colour palette, No colour, no sense of human life whatsoever. The two opposites from the outside to the inside was a terrible contrast. Like going from a graveyard into a science lab.

The two strong arms behind her twisted her around so she was looking into the eyes of her restraint. The man had a look, almost as if there was a permanent frown about him. His eyes were cold and empty as he looked at her.

"Now pay attention. There are four rules here that you stick to if you want to survive," he snapped. "Rule one, do whatever the hell we say the first time, got it?"

Ariadne whimpered a small yes.

"Two, the more you lash out, make snappy remarks or get frisky with other patients, the more you will _suffer. _Three, stay in your room at night, and try to keep it down."

He pushed her towards a door. "And four…" He leaned close into her face. Too close for her liking. "…Don't even _try _to escape. Or you will regret it."

The door opened and he pushed her into the room, slamming the door shut behind him, leaving her in the deafening silence. She looked around.

The room was small and dark, and the only window was tiny, and barred. There was a bed, and that was it. No closet, no lights, no tables or chairs. On the wall were scratch marks, claw marks, each one a frightening reminder of the people here before her.

Ariadne sat down on the bed, making a small squeak echo in the room. Of course it would be uncomfortable. She looked around her and felt a harsh blow of loneliness. Complete and utter loneliness. She wanted the others. She wanted Arthur. She wanted someone to tell her that this was all a misunderstanding and that they would get out of it.

She was frightened beyond all belief. She hoped to god that this was some horrifying dream.

But she was being taunted by the fact that she knew it wasn't. This was a very real reality.

Her face fell into her hands, and her shoulders shook as she sobbed.


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

Eames felt his heavy eyes distort his vision. He shuddered as he remembered the first night.

As a Forger, he was trained for things like this. Acting. He needed to act calm, collected, and in absolute control of the situation. But knew he wasn't fooling anyone. He was scared, and worried and incredibly uncertain. He'd never felt like that before.

He was hungry, but he knew by looking at his "food" that _that_ problem wouldn't be solved.

Plastic cutlery. _This should be interesting _Eames thought. He looked around and spotted Arthur sitting by himself. It frightened Eames to see him this way. He was simply staring into space, like nothing Arthur would do. A ghost of a man. He walked over and tried to ignore the tortured sounds of the people around him. They were angry, haunted, the real insanity of the place. He reached Arthur and swiftly moved into the seat next to him.

"Hi." His voice came out a hoarse whisper, his throat dry from the fact that he hadn't spoken.

Arthur did nothing but continue to stare. Eames sighed. "Arthur, you're scaring me. Say something."

"Look around you, Eames," Arthur's voice croaked. "All these people. It's terrifying. I knew places like this exist, but I never really _knew_ about them. This is so fucked up."

Eames nodded slowly. "I know."

"Remember the Hanson job? How he was so tortured and angry? His subconscious was like a war zone."

"I remember."

Arthur inhaled slowly. The air felt dry and dirty in his throat. "Well…this is it. This is one big dreamscape of hate."

A scream made them both look up. Another patient was being restrained by two workers, screaming at the top of her lungs, sending shivers down Arthur's spine. Eames noticed how empty and sad her eyes were. She didn't seem crazy…just tormented. They watched as she was thrown to the ground whilst one of the workers quickly brought out a needle. Eames looked away as she was injected into the arm, her thrashing subsided slowly.

Arthur looked down at his plate. "Shit."

Eames cleared his throat, quickly trying to dispute the tension. "…Did you get any sleep last night?"

Arthur shook his head. "No. There was too much…"

"Screaming?"

"Screaming, crying, whatever you want to call it." Arthur's knuckled grew white around the plastic spoon. "We're going to find out who did this to us. I swear that to you."

"Yeah well, I think Cobb and Ariadne are probably thinking the same thing."

* * *

"Well Mr Cobb, are you comfortable?"

Cobb adjusted himself on the worn leather couch, placing both his hands on his chest. He had been submitted to weekly therapy sessions due to his…_delusional behaviour. _

He looked at the plain walls and decided that he would rather be back in his empty room than in here. Everything was so empty.

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Good." the man smiled. "I'm Dr Carter. I'll be talking with you for the duration of your therapy. Now, first of all, why do you think you are here?"

Cobb snorted. "Well…I don't know. I'm not meant to be here, nor are my team mates."

"Your team mates? Oh, you came in with the others? British guy, little brunette, tall dark eyed guy?"

Cobb nodded. "That's them. We were sent here under the accusation that we're delusional. Violent. Insane."

Carter nodded. "Hmm. Why do you think that you're violent?"

"We're not violent," Cobb snapped. "Whoever sent us here was lying."

"Can you tell me a little more about your team mates?" Carter asked, tapping on his clipboard with his pen. "You obviously have some emotional bond to them."

Cobb sighed and looked up to the ceiling. "Well…Arthur is like a brother to me. He's always supported me and stuck by me, even after Mal died."

"Your wife?"

Cobb nodded. "Even with all the crap I've put him through, he's always stayed by my side. And as for Eames, well, we're not that close, but I'd still look out for him. Countless years of sacrifice and loyalty from him. Ariadne really helped me through a hard time in my life, and she's so talented. They're my friends. Dare I say…some sort of family."

"Interesting," Carter mused. "So Cobb, be honest. This little fantasy you're living in…does it seem better than reality?"

Cobb turned his head to the side. "Fantasy?"

"Yes, all the dreaming."

Cobb stiffened. "…It's not a fantasy. It's very real."

"Interesting, what makes you think that?"

Cobb pushed himself up and stared into the eyes of the man before him, his breathing hitching in anger. "I'm going to say this once. I am not crazy. What has happened to me during my life is very much a real thing, and I know for a fact that there is nothing wrong with me or my team. So job down your notes and prescribe as much medication as you want, but I am not denying the truth."

Carter stared for a moment. "Mr Cobb, would you say that your wife's death was the cause of your anger?"

"I'm not angry!" Cobb snapped, his voice raised. "The sooner you god damn people accept that I am a person and not a pacient, the better it'll be for all of you."

Carter stood up and walked over to his desk. "Alright, Mr Cobb, calm down. Here, have some water." He returned with a white plastic cup which Cobb took from his hands.

"Sorry…it's just…been a stressful few-"

"I understand," Carter nodded. "Please, have a drink."

Cobb lifted the cup and swallowed back as much water as possible, trying to wash down the foul taste in his mouth.

"Now, what were you saying about your team mates?"

Cobb blinked. "I…I um…"

Carter's eyes narrowed. "Are you alright Mr Cobb?"

Cobb nodded. "Yeah…yeah I'm….fine." His breathing became shallow, and he felt his head quickly become sore, like an instant migraine. "Jesus, my head."

"Don't worry," Carter said, his face contorting into a dark smirk. "You won't feel anything in a moment."

Cobb felt his body becoming heavier. "What did you do to me?" He forced himself from the chair, trying to take a step towards the door.

"Just relax Mr Cobb. It's all part of our job. Patients who get too violent have to be sedated immediately."

"I'm not getting too vio-"

His legs gave out from under him, sending his entire body to the ground. As his head hit the hard floor, everything around him switched to black.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**HELLO LOVELY PEOPLE! Just got back from holiday- so there should be lots of new updates heading your way. To all those still with me, thank you very very much, and please enjoy!**

* * *

"Wha-"

Cobb opened his eyes to the fuzzy reality around him. His head killed. He knew he was still in the same room. The harsh smell of medication stung his nostrils.

"Where am I?"

He reached to his head but quickly found himself having difficulty. He looked down in horror and realised that his hands were restrained.

"Glad to see you're awake."

He looked up and saw Carter standing over him, an evil smile worn upon his face. Cobb lashed toward him but again was pulled back by the restraints.

"What did you do?" he snarled.

Carter smiled and stood over him. "I got tired of listening to your problems. So I gave you some "medication", or so to speak."

"You drugged me?" Cobb asked, his face contorting into anger and disbelief.

"Yep. Worked like a charm too."

Suddenly, Carter was right against Cobb's face, his angry breath hot on Cobb's cheek. Cobb pulled and strained against his hold, desperate to get free.

"Now look here. I don't like you. I don't like any of you physcos. And I couldn't give a fuck about any of your problems." He hissed.

Cobb swallowed. "…What?"

"The only reason I work here is to make sure that you crazy assholes are kept contained. Now if we're gonna keep going these weekly sessions, you're gonna behave and not fucking whine all the time, got it?"

Something rose in the pit of Cobb's stomach. Something he hadn't felt in a long time. Fear. He was never scared. He tried so hard to act brave, that it just became his nature. But now, in this place, with nobody but hateful people around him, he was purely terrified. Cobb nodded weakly.

"Excellent."

* * *

Eames sighed deeply, and poked his cutlery onto his plate. "They really expect us to eat this?"

Arthur let his fork fall to the table. "I'm not hungry anyway." The pit of pain in his stomach would not be subsided by some poorly made food. Arthur thought that the feeling would probably never go away.

"Hi," a small voice said.

Arthur looked up and saw Ariadne standing over him, pale and shaken. He moved over instantly.

"Ari."

She sat down next to him, refusing to even glance at either of them.

"You alright, love?" Eames asked.

She exhaled slowly. "…Yes…no…I don't know."

"It's ok," Arthur whispered, reaching forward to grab her hand.

"Don't lie to her," Eames sighed. "…It's not ok."

"Eames," Arthur snapped. His face softened as he returned his attention to the withering Architect next to him. "We're going to figure this out. I promise."

"We have to find a way out of here."

Arthur looked up and his face hardened at the sight of Cobb. His eyes were tired, bloodshot, and his back was hunched over as he kept his face to the ground. His hair hung over his eyes.

"Cobb, what happened to you?" Eames asked, shifting up the bench slightly.

"Therapy," Cobb replied bluntly, sitting down. "This place is run by psychos."

Ariadne swallowed. "What happened?"

Cobb sighed and pitched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply and slowly. "The Doctor. He drugged me. When I woke up, he was almost a completely different person. He was angry, saying all this stuff about how he hated us and wanted to keep us contained."

"Holy shit," Arthur cursed. "This place….these people…"

"They're going to break us down," Cobb muttered. "They're going to pick and pick at us until there's nothing left." He looked up, and the dark lines under his eyes became more defined. "Listen to me. We have to try and hold each other together. We can't fall apart."

"Who would do this to us?" Ariadne asked, her voice pained and hoarse.

Cobb shook his head. "I don't know. Arthur and I alone have countless people on our tail."

"Me too," Eames sighed. "It could be anyone. It wouldn't be hard to convince someone that we're crazy. Look at Mal for christ's sake, she really _was _crazy."

"Shut up," Cobb hissed.

"Eames," Arthur sighed. "Let's just try and focus on _our _situation right now."

A heavy silence arrived between them.

It was like there was nothing between them. Any sign of friendship was gone. Right then, they were simply four people in a desperate situation, trying to find something to cling onto. Eames could sense it, and he knew the others could sense it. All personality had been sucked from them the minute they were taken to the hospital, and now, all was left were shells of frightened figures, trying to comfort each other. What Eames wouldn't give right then to see Cobb spinning his totem, or Ariadne huddled over some sketches, or even Arthur throwing some poor insult his way.

He looked up as a hand heavily landed on his shoulder.

"You. Up," demanded the large worker behind him. Eames glanced at the table before letting his fork fall to the hard plastic. He snuck a glance at Cobb before standing up and allowing himself to be escorted away.

Eames provided no resistance. He wasn't up for a fight. He suspected that they would be receiving medication soon, and with that, any force they had left would be taken away.

Eames knew he wasn't a good man. He cheated, he gambled, he worked on the complete opposite side of the law and he womanized like there was no tomorrow. But he didn't deserve this. None of them did. This was pure hell, a place from which there seemed no escape. But Eames knew that if they wanted even the slightest chance of keeping their sanity, they would need to try.

"Your tray was full. If you don't eat, then you will be medicated you know."

Eames smirked to himself. "Yeah…but eat too much and I'll end up like you."

He felt the cold dirty air rush around his face as he was swung around. Within a matter of moments, he felt a hard blow against his face, knocking his head to the side. He hissed in pain as a second fist collided with his jaw, this time, sending him to the ground. Eames winced as he felt his head crack against the hard surface.

"I don't wanna hear a fucking word out of you."

A hand collected a fist full of his hair, and Eames sharply inhaled. His head was sent down again, slamming onto the floor. Vivid colours and noises entered his head as numbness started spreading across his skull. His tongue caught a taste of blood in his mouth as he choked.

Through the squint of his eyes, he saw a fist travelling closer to his face. He tensed, preparing for another blow.

"Hey! Stop!"

Eames kept his eyes shut as he waited. He even kept them shut when nothing happened. Voices above him were talking, almost yelling at each other, but his head was far too messed up to get any sense out of his surroundings.

"Are you ok?"

Eames felt his head fall back onto the hard ground. "…Please….don't-"

"I'm not going to hurt you. Here, let me help you."

He felt a pair of hands gently pull him from the ground. Eames stumbled slightly as he held his hand out against the white wall. As his eyes focused, he saw a figure. A kindly looking young man was standing before him, dressed in the same white uniform as everyone else.

"Who are you?" Eames slurred, feeling the blood drip down his jaw.

"Not important right now," the younger man said, holding Eames up by his shoulders. "Let me take you to your room."

Now Eames didn't believe in god. He didn't believe in angels. But he did believe in luck.


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

Arthur wasn't feeling sad, or lonely. He just felt angry. He lived off control. Now, he was being forced medication and having to be supervised all the time. People had always looked upon him with respect and admiration, now he was being treated incredibly badly. He swore to himself he would never look at anyone the way he was being looked at.

As a Point Man, it was his job to make sure everything goes to plan, and more importantly, back everyone else on the team. Now he didn't even have a chance of doing that. Cobb wanted them to try and stick together, to keep each other alive and sane, but he hadn't even muttered two words of comfort to anyone. Guilt washed over him as he realised that he wasn't even supposed to be a Point Man in there. He was supposed to be a friend.

"Arthur."

He watched as Eames sat down in front of him. As Arthur's eyes flickered up to Eames's face, he inhaled sharply.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked, taking in the Forger's cut lip, bruised jaw and black eye.

Eames pulled a corner of his mouth up slightly in a half smile. "Had a run in the Dr Arsewipe over there."

"You don't seem too upset about it," Arthur muttered bitterly.

The smile disappeared on Eames disappeared as quickly as it came. His grey orbs stared at Arthur's brown ones for a moment. "…He was going to beat me half to death. Probably all the way."

"So what happened?"

Eames turned his attention to his plate. "So there I am, bleeding on the floor, when this bloke shows up."

"_Here, sit down."_

_Eames placed himself on the side of his bed, staring up at the person in front of him. He couldn't have been older than 25. Blonde hair hung over his eyes, which scanned over Eames and his bloody face._

"_What's your name?" he asked._

"_Eames."_

_The younger man smiled. "Well Mr Eames, I'd suggest that you don't talk to the other staff like that. They don't like it."_

_Eames raised an eyebrow in a very suspicious manner. "Well…what's the catch?"_

"_I'm sorry?"_

"_The catch. You're not acting at all like the others."_

_The man smiled. "Well, as hard as it is to believe, there are some good people in this world." He walked forward and held his hand out. "John Daniels."_

_Eames paused for a moment before reaching forward and shaking his hand. It felt refreshing to find someone…well…normal._

"_You seem pretty calm around someone who's supposedly crazy," Eames said, rolling his eyes on the last word._

_John shrugged. "I prefer the term mentally disabled. Besides, I've been here long enough to tell." He paused. "But why are you here? You seem pretty straight forward."_

_Eames sighed and ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the sudden pressure on his sore head. "Well…my friends and I were brought here by the police. To be honest, I think someone else did it."_

"_What exactly are you charged for?"_

"What did you say? Did you tell him?"

Eames nodded. "I told him everything. About dream-sharing, about you, Cobb and Ariadne."

"And what? Did he believe you?"

"He…did. Well…he didn't _not _believe me."

"_How long have you been here for?"_

"_Just a few days," Eames sighed. "I honestly don't know what we're going to do."_

_A brief silence filled the room before John sighed. "Listen, I'm really not supposed to be helping you, but because you seem like a nice guy, I'm going to help you out. If you ever need anything, let me know. Your friends too."_

_Eames smiled. "…Thank you."_

"_I don't believe in the way these people are treated. I see people slowly lose it everyday," John sighed. "Promise me something?"_

"_Sure."_

"_Just promise me that you and your friends stick together on this one. It's not something you want to go though alone."_

Arthur blinked. "Really?"

"Really. I think we could use this to our advantage. Maybe this guy could help us escape."

Arthur shook his head. "Don't push it, Eames. This guy is the only thing we have that could possibly make this thing bearable." He looked at the ground for a moment, before quickly flicking his head back up at Eames. "…Where can I find this guy?"

Eames shrugged. "Not sure. Try outside. Blonde hair, around 5''8."

"Thanks."

As Eames looked up, he saw that Arthur was already halfway out of the dining hall, striding his way through the double doors.

* * *

Arthur pushed the doors open and inhaled deeply, breathing in the air. His eyes scanned the grounds (avoiding the gazes of other patients), trying to find the man that Eames described. He walked down slightly, keeping his head down, trying to keep himself unnoticed more than anything else. It was cold, and he could only guess that it would rain later.

He looked over and looked for the worker that Eames had spoken of. He saw several, but none as Eames described. He saw large ones, bald ones, women doctors, people with clipboards people with _syringes_. Arthur began to think that maybe Eames had imagined the guy, when he saw a thinner worker. He certainly didn't look like he belonged there, and Arthur was relieved to say he matched the description.

He quickly walked over and paused a few feet away from him. What if this guy thought he was just a normal patient? He began rethinking his whole move when he saw the man turn around to face him. There was a moment of silence between the two as Arthur straightened his stance.

"May I help you?" John asked. Arthur was surprised to hear no hint of sarcasm in his voice.

He exhaled. "…My name is Arthur. I'm a friend of Eames."

Another brief silence fell between them as John crossed his arms over his chest. "John Daniels," he said, with a slight smile on his face.

"Eames told me about you. He said that maybe you'd…listen."

He shrugged. "Of course."

"I don't want to seem…forward."

"There's no such thing as forward in a place like this," John smirked.

"…I was wondering if you could do me a favour."

John quirked an eyebrow. "Depends on what it is."

Arthur sighed. "…There are four of us in here who aren't supposed to be in here. Eames, myself, Dominic Cobb and Ariadne Peterson." He paused. "…Ariadne…she's not taking this well. She's all on her own, and I know she's scared.. I just want to make sure she's all right."

"And you want me to…?"

"I was wondering…if you could find a way so that I can see her. Alone, without the security or the workers."

There was a brief pause. "Well…most of the guards are off duty at night. The only way that would work would be if I took you to her room."

Arthur's eyes lit up. "Yes! Please!"

"But it's far too risky. If we were caught, it would be-"

"I know. I know. It's just…" He sighed. "When I first met her, I promised myself I would look after her. Just imagine how alone she must be feeling. If you just met her and knew what she was like, you'd see that she deserves this least out of all of us."

There was a pregnant pause. John sighed and brushed back his hair with his hand. "…Ok. I'll think about it."


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**This chapter is a little short, so I apologise, but the next chapter shall be very long. Speaking of the next chapter, it will be moved up to an M due to...unpleasent happenings.**

Arthur lay in his bed that night, listening to the sounds around him. The screams, the yelling, there seemed to be so much life, but at the same time, he found himself to be incredibly lonely. Being a Point Man, he'd always stuck to the rules. No contact for 7 weeks after a job, crystal clear. He was alone, sure, but never _lonely._ He never really knew the meaning of the word until now. He began to realise how much he truly needed people. Cobb, Ariadne, heck, even Eames. He'd hoped that he would at least get a chance to see Ariadne, but he was quickly losing hope.

Of all of them, he worried about Ariadne the most. He spent a fair amount of time wondering where she was, and what she was doing. Or what they were doing to her. He constantly found himself growing frustrated, trying to figure out who may have done this to them.

A knock on his door clattered against the metal. Arthur sat up, having a feeling that he knew who is was. Who else would knock?

The door opened slightly and Arthur relaxed as he saw the familiar worker's head poke through. He sat up instantly and gave him a hopeful look.

"…Well?"

John looked at him for a moment before nodding. "We have to be quick."

Arthur nodded and quickly pushed himself from the bed and towards the door. "Thank you," he said quietly.

* * *

Cobb couldn't sleep.. The rain was too persistent on his window to allow him any moment of peace. Thinking about his experience of the day made him shiver. It made him deeply unsettled that his team mates had no clue what had happened to him…or even worse, the fact that they had no idea what would happen to them.

He knew they had to get out. Get out before they were in too deep. It seemed like a distance dream the idea of escape, and which no plan in place, it also seemed like a slim chance. Even if they did get out, what would they do? They'd be found, no doubt. But if they stayed….

He'd only known of this onc before. A friend of a friend had been convicted of heavy delusions and had been sent to a mental facility. But he never got out. Eventually, it drove him crazy, and he may of well been in Limbo.

_Cobb…._

Cobb blinked and sat up. If room was as empty as ever.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus Cobb…keep it together…."

* * *

Arthur followed pace behind John as they walked down the unfamiliar hallway. Pounding on the doors kept Arthur ready to spring, almost as if something was going to jump out. Eventually, they stopped at a door labelled 528. The numbers in think black writing.

Arthur watched in heavy anticipation as John pulled out a set of keys. He pushed one inside the lock and looked at Arthur.

"Make it quick. Remember what happens if you're seen."

Arthur nodded and inhaled deeply. He pushed the door open and quickly slipped in. It was dark, almost so dark that he didn't see her. But as his eyes adjusted to the light, he noticed a small figure huddled in the corner of her bed, arms tucked around her knees. He shut the door gently and swallowed.

"…Ari?"

Her head snapped up quickly. As he began to step forward, her top lip quivered.

"Arthur?"

He nodded. "I came to see you."

She blinked. "How?"

"Eames found someone. Someone who can help us." He edged forward slightly. "I don't really don't have a lot of time."

"Come, sit down," she said, motioning to the space next to her.

He walked over and slipped onto the side of the bed, resting his hands on the itchy fabric. She reached forward and lightly placed her hand atop of his, rubbing circles with her thumb on his wrist. Arthur looked down at their hands and be bag to entwine their fingers, twisting their hands together as if they were some sort of padlock.

"Are _you _ok, Arthur?"

His lips upturned in a small but genuine smile. "That's the first time somebody's asked me that…in years." He sighed. "I don't know. I'm just not sure of anything, right now.

"None of us are."

A scream from down the hallway caused Ariadne to jump. As the screams continued, echoing down the hallway, Ariadne shook slightly. Arthur noticed a pattern of tears staring running down tear cheeks. He reached forward and gently wiped away the wet trails with his thumb.

"Don't listen to it," he whispered. "Do you hear me? Don't listen, Ariadne."

"Do you think we'll be like that?" she asked, her voice shaking. "We'll turn…crazy? Just like them?"

"No we won't. We'll get out of here." He reached forward and wrapped his arms around her, surrounding her in a tight embrace. "I bet Cobb's coming up with a plan right now."


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own inception.**

**Hey guys, just a word of warning. This chapter contains some adulterated content of an unpleasant nature. I'm really not trying to cause offence or disturbance to anyone, but it's simply part of the story. _This is a very sensitive subject for some people, but personally, I know the effects and tramua caused by sexual assult. I'm not trying to offend or disturb anybody, it's simply how I planned for the story to develop. This story was never meant to be a pleasent one anyway. _On a different note, please review, they mean a lot to me to see all your comments and critiques! **

Arthur woke up the next morning with some sense of satisfaction. It felt nice getting your way in a place like this, and it felt even better knowing that he'd found someway to comfort another member of the team, patricianly Ariadne. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel something for her. It wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done, but he really couldn't give a flying rat's ass about what he was supposed to and not supposed to be feeling. If he had a chance with Ariadne, he'd take it.

"Get your ass up!" a voice barked from outside his door. "Time for your therapy!"

He was silent for a moment before slowly slipping out of the piece of crap they called a bed and moved towards the door. He began to miss his morning routine, something he had always simply done and never thought about. Normally, he'd wake up, shower, have a coffee, get dressed in one of his beloved suits and go to work. He missed all that regular shit like a lifeline.

* * *

Ariadne felt the slightest bit happier that morning. Seeing Arthur, it made her feel better. When she first started working with the team, she'd felt silly that she began to feel things for the infamous Point Man. She felt like a teenager again, and every little thing he did made her stomach flutter.. Everytime she was showing him a new dreamscape design, he'd reach forward and his fingers would light brush her hand and she'd feel like the whole room stopped, just for that second. Or when he'd hook her up to the PASIV. He worked quickly and painless with her. She began to become infatuated with him, and would start indulging in pleasant fantasies involving him, her and a long evening on one of the lawn chairs. She quickly blushed, embarrassed by the memories.

"Get up!" The voice from outside made her jump. "Physical exam!"

She swallowed. Not another physical. She wouldn't be able to take it. She remained still in her bed for a few moment before a few knocks on her door erupted throughout the room.

"I said get up!"

She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. After a moment, the door opened and the figure of a large worker entered her room. When she looked at his eyes, she found herself cowering away from the anger on his face.

"Are you getting up? Or do I have to make you?" he sneered.

She blinked. "I…I'm not having another physical."

He stared at her for a moment. "Get up. Now."

"No," she replied quickly, starting to find the courage within her.

Any and all courage quickly fled as he walked over to her, rage on his features. He reached forwad and grabbed her arm, pulling her close to his face. She gasped as he tightly gripped her skin, no doubt leaving marks.

"…You think you're such a princess just because you're here with your friends," he spat. "Well guess what sweetheart, they're not here to protect you. Nobody is."

"Get off of me!" she pleaded, her hands clawing at his arm helplessly.

His face contorted into a sadistic grin that made Ariadne want to run.

He smiled. "If you don't want a physical from the dear doctor, then allow me…"

Her eyes widened in horror. "No! Get away from me!"

* * *

Arthur found himself in the bland world of Dr Carter's office. He didn't know what therapy meant exactly, but he didn't want to find out anytime soon. As the door opened, he looked up to see the older man enter the room, clipboard in one hand, pen in the other. Arthur thought that it was positively cliché. Carter looked up from his clipboard at him and forced a smile that made Arthur want to slap him around the face.

"Arthur, right?" he asked.

Arthur's eyes flickered around the man's face for a moment before nodding slowly. "Yeah."

"Dr Carter. I'll be conducting your weekly therapy sessions." He walked over to his chair and sat down, scribbling on his paper.

"Ok," Arthur mumbled.

After a moment, Carter looked up at him and sighed.

"So Arthur. You're with Dominic Cobb, yes?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." Another scirbble on the paper. "And, you are part of the whole dream delusion."

Arthur frowned. "It's not a-"

"Well, no matter," Carter looked up at him. "We'll fix that head of yours."

* * *

Being a lot bigger than her, it was easy for him push her down onto the hard fabric of the bed. She blinked. Surely this was a nightmare of some sorts. But if she knew that it was a dream, then someone would come running in and stopping this.

"You're going to regret that," the voice sneered into her ear.

She felt a large force against her shoulder pin her against the pillow.

She trashed against his arms. "No! Please don't-"

"Shut up!"

She winced as she felt hot breaths on her neck. Pure fear took over her as she found that she was unable to move, unable to prevent this.

* * *

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, his eyes narrowed.

Carter smirked and tapped his clipboard with his pen, "Well, clearly you have some issues that have buried them deep in your subconscious."

"You have no idea what's buried in my subconscious," Arthur hissed.

"I know more than you think. I know that you've created a neat, hard working persona to cover up your true feelings and flaws."

Arthur paused. "…What flaws?"

"The very flaws that make up your existence. Deep down, you're just as much of a scum as the rest of us. You're competitive, angry, sexually driven, violent-, "

Arthur's jaw locked. "I'm not any of those things. I know what I am, but it's nothing like that."

"Tell me about your childhood."

Arthur blinked. That was the last question he expected. Not one he particularly wanted to answer.

* * *

She tried to think of something else. She tried to think of anything that would take her away from the current state she was in.. But nothing could even begin to take her mind away from what was happening. Nothing could cover the pain of foreign nails clawing against her skin, tugging on her clothing.

"Please! Stop! Someone help!" she cried, her voice weak.

Hands forcefully lifted her arms above her head, holding them, restraining her. Her cheeks were moist with tears, and she tried to pull away desperately. She suddenly felt a heavy weight holding her down by her waist. She shivered as she suddenly felt a cold hand move along her leg, pulling up her dress, exposing parts of herself that she only reserved for certain people. Certain people most certainly did not include this bastard on top of her.

"Arthur! Help me!"

* * *

"Ur…" He struggled. "It was normal. I had a good life."

A deep chuckle erupted from Carter's throat. Arthur locked eyes with the therapist in deep hatred. "Please Arthur. We both know what went on in your childhood."

Arthur's glare burned into him. "Don't."

"Poor Mommy and Daddy didn't get along very well, did they?"

The Point Man/s eyes screwed shut tightly. "I said don't."

Carter leaned forward in his chair, his eyes changing from mocking into empty, emotionless pits. "How old were you, Arthur? 4...5? Young enough for it to traumatise you completely…"

"Please."

"How did it feel? Seeing her die like that?"

"Stop."

"…How did it feel seeing Dad kill your beloved mother right in front of your eyes? I bet it was awfully intriguing…"

Arthur's chair knocked back onto the ground in a flustered cluttered bang. He growled as he wrapped his hands around the older man's neck, his breaths panting angrily from his chest.

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT MY CHILDHOOD!" He yelled. "YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT WAS LIKE! I SAW HER DIE! HE KILLED HER! HE SHOT HER IN OUR GOD DAMN KITCHEN! I LOVED HER AND HE TOOK HER AWAY FROM ME!"

"I know he did, Arthur. That's why we need to get your anger under control," Carter smirked. "Wouldn't want you to turn out like him, would we?"

"I'm nothing like him," Arthur snarled in return. "I never will be."

A silence fell over the two, and soon, the only sound was the sound of Arthur's heavy breathing.

Carter started directly into the depths of the Point Man's brown eyes. "…That's where you're wrong, Arthur. You don't want to be like him, when the truth is…you already are."


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**Sorry that this story has been so long forgotten, but I'm trying really focus on finishing Can't Be Dreamers with a bang. Please go check that out if you have the chance. Soon, we shall find out who put the team in the Institute. **

"Eames? Eames?"

Eames sat staring at the white, shiny surface of the table with a morbid expression. His eyes were blank, the dark circles under his eyes framing them. Cobb stared opposite the Forger, his eyes searching worriedly over his face.

"Eames, are you okay?" he asked.

Eames blinked. "What do you think, Cobb? Do I look okay?"

Cobb shrugged lazily. "No, but you seem more sadly depressed than normal."

He watched as the man let his head fall slightly, his shoulders tensing in frustration.

"I have to go home, Cobb," Eames sighed.

Cobb exhaled, not wanting to be reminded of the two small children waiting for him at home. Phillipa was 8 now, and James just turning 6. Cobb had hoped that after the Fischer job, he wouldn't miss anymore birthday's. That seemed like a pipe dream now. Phillipa was turning out more and more like her mother, perfectly managing to torture and give Cobb pride at the same time. She had a brilliant young mind. James on the other hand, was more creative and imaginative. An Architect in the making.

"So do I, Eames. I have children who need their father." Cobb frowned. "I wish you'd think about what I have to deal with."

"I know what you have to deal with. Maybe you should do the same," Eames retorted.

Now in a slight rage, Cobb's fist curled around the edge of the pristine table. "No offence, but you seem like the lone type. Who would you have to go back to?" he spat.

"I have a wife who's 4 months pregnant!" Eames snapped. "That's who I have to go back to!"

The two grew silent. Cobb blinked back surprise as the Forger's head quickly ducked down. Cobb began to shake his head.

"...If I didn't believe your crap outside this place, what makes you think that I'll believe it in here?"

Eames shot him a cold glare. "No, Cobb. Unfortunately, I'm not lying." The hostile wall he had built around himself had momentarily fallen to reveal something Cobb had never seen in him before. A vulnerability. "My wife, Fiona, is back in England. She's expecting," he said softly.

Cobb felt sympathy for the Forger. He leaned forward silently. "Eames. I...I didn't know that you-"

"Have a life? Well, I do. I have my ways of getting around Arthur's 'research'." He offered a small smile. "I'm like you Cobb. I have my ways of adjusting things. Just to protect the ones I love."

Cobb had found the small humanity in the man opposite him. Maybe it was the strange circumstances they were in, or maybe it was the fact that each and every one of them were slowly pushing apart from each other, but Cobb regarded Eames as a close friend more than anything else in those moments. He knew what it felt like to be missing a loved one, particularly a wife. Cobb grew stronger about Mal's death everyday, but he still missed her dearly. Eames however, had a wife, a lover, a best friend.

And right then, Cobb knew what his new mission was.

"Eames. I promise, I will get you back to your wife."

Eames sighed. "Cobb, you don't have to make-"

Cobb silenced him by holding up his hand. "You brought me back to my kids. Now it's time to return the favour."

* * *

Arthur paced the garden, his mind still sour from the previous day's therapy session.

Over his life, he'd managed to carefully supress his unfortunate memories. He'd spent years creating and perfecting his ability to shield himself from anyone else. That was one of the quirks of being a Point Man. The professional image had attracted him so. He could keep a straight face, stay quiet, and hide emotions perfectly, without anyone suspecting anything otherwise. But over the years, he'd let it slip. He'd begun to let people in. Cobb was first. The Extractor had slowly but surely picked his way through the younger man's mind and emotions, until they'd created a friendship far more supporting than any mere Extractor/Point Man relationship. Then it was Ariadne. The sweet, friendly young woman who'd sucessfully created distractions for Arthur until he could no longer work. He'd confess things to her easily, and the countless hours they'd spend working late in the warehouse, swapping stories and secrets had been carefully stored away in Arthur's mind. Even Eames knew more about Arthur than he'd prefer.

But never his childhood. Never that. That was a time he'd like to take to the grave if possible.

Looking around, he'd noticed how today seemed to be a bad day for the rest of the patients (prisioners). But only one stood out to him. A small, brunette, doe-eyed Architect striding across the grass towards him.

"Hey, Ari-" As she walked up, she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck. Taken back, he stood silently for a moment before placing his hands on her back, and began rubbing comforting circles. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she mumbled quietly into his clothing. She said nothing, but Arthur (being perceptive as he was), noticed something was clearly wrong. The tiny shakes travelling through her shoulders and the way she was pressing herself so hard into his chest that he was sure she could feel his ribs. He pulled back and placed his hands gently on her arms.

"You're upset," he said simply. "What's wrong?"

Her head tilted up slightly, her bottom lip quivering. He searched her face, seeing a fear that he'd never seen in the Architect. A few moments were filled with nothing but silence until she sighed and let her head fall back into his chest.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

* * *

**I have no idea where the back story for Eames came from, but I feel like everyone else has one. So, why not? Next chapter, there should be some action.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! Thanks!**


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**Reviews will earn you eternal love from me! Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Cobb lay on his bed, his feet pressed against the cold wall. Perhaps if he tried hard enough, he could kick the wall down. It would be difficult perhaps, but not impossible. His mind had been winding everyday to think of a new escape. It was breaking him down, causing him to get tired and frustrated, but he refused to give up hope. It was strange, the Forger's confession had lead him to gain a new respect for Eames. A new way of seeing him. It made him wonder about the others. How much did he truly know about his team? Of course, he'd known Arthur the longest, and they'd created a strong friendship, but he didn't know the man insides out.

_"Miles, I really appreciate what you're doing, but I really don't need a Point Man," Cobb insisted. _

_Cobb was 21 when he first met Arthur. Miles had insisted that he needed a Point Man, but Cobb refused, saying that he prefered to work alone. He was quite the ignorant fuck when he wanted to be._

_The older man smiled to himself. "How wrong you are, Dom. You're good, brilliant in fact, but you will never get anywhere without a Point Man."_

_Cobb rolled his eyes and repeated the words he must have said hundreds of times. "But I work alone."_

_Miles turned to him and quirked an eyebrow. "You don't feel that way when you work with my daughter."_

_Cobb swallowed down embarresment. "Well...that's different. Mal and I are engaged. I've known her for years. Why would I want some stranger coming to work with me in a job as secretive as this? In a position that not only gains protection of my life, but Mal's as well."_

_Miles gave him a knowing smile. "Because you haven't met the man for the job."_

_Cobb remained slightly unsettled. Miles had told him about this guy, fresh out of College, with some name he couldn't remember, Arwin? Andrew? Regardless, Miles had taken great pride in telling him that this kid had majored in Criminal Law. The irony was unbearable._

_"Ok, Miles. What makes this guy different from any of the other saps you've tried to push on me?" Cobb asked dryly, stuffing his hands into his pockets._

_"Believe me Cobb, he's brilliant. A genius. Fits the profile perfectly. Hard-working, organised, always looking for further details."_

_"Then how does he know about dream-sharing?"_

_Miles looked ahead. "Well, if I'm not mistaken, he came across the subject when he spent a year in the military. Of course, he realised that this was what he wanted to persue. So he dropped out and began picking up odd jobs with Extractors to pay his way through school."_

_Not a rookie, but not a pro. Regardless of job skill, Cobb didn't want to spend his time training some kid._

_"Ah, here he is now."_

_Cobb looked forward and couldn't help but raise a questionable eyebrow at the figure approaching him. He was skinny, with dark hair falling over his eyes. He sauntered over to them and gave Miles a friendly smile. _

_"Hi, Professor," he greeted._

_Miles gave the young man a reassuring grin. "Arthur. Good to see you again." He gestured next to him. "This is my future son-in-law. Dominic Cobb."_

_Arthur looked at Cobb with a slight tinge of intimidation. Cobb smirked. _

_"Great to meet you," Arthur said, polietly holding his hand out. "Professor Miles has told me all about you."_

_Cobb smiled as he shook his hand. "Not everything, I hope. Nice to meet you, Arthur." On release of his hand, Cobb placed it back in his pocket, eyeing up the younger man, who's nose wrinkled in scowl._

_"Please, don't call me Arthur," he asked. "I hate my name."_

_Cobb bit back a badly formated name joke. "Oh, what do people call you, then?"_

_"Art. Artie. Whatever."_

_He wouldn't last. He was nervous, weak, and quite unprofessional from what Cobb could see. Not exactly the type of person he'd want as his Point._

_"So, tell me. Why do you want to be Point Man?" Cobb asked. _

_Arthur shrugged. "I get that a lot. It's not one of the most exciting jobs in dream-sharing, but I think it's the most suited for me." He locked eyes with the Extractor briefly. "Besides, I'm pretty good."_

Cobb remembered the meeting fondly. He didn't particularly take to the strange _kid_ in front of him. But against his will, he took him on board anyway. The first few weeks were hell. Arthur was a stubborn piece of work. He couldn't handle critisizem anymore than he could handle instruction. Cobb had made a secret bet with himself that Arthur would only last three weeks before he walked out of the door. He was wrong. Arthur only lasted two.

But around a month or so later, Arthur reappeared on his doorstep at three in the afternoon. Cobb almost didn't recognise him. Dressed head to toe in fine clothing, his droopy hair cut and slicked back, revealing his angled face. He had a briefcase in one hand, and a red die in the other. He asked to come in, and politely shook hands with Mal, introducing himself as Arthur. It was only when Cobb invited him into his office, that he confronted him.

_"So..." Cobb mused. "Why have you decided to turn up again?"_

_Arthur cleared his throat and placed a briefcase on the desk. "I decided that I was perhaps a little too...childish when we last trained together."_

_Cobb smirked. "A little?"_

_"But I wanted to apologise, and hopefully get you to train me again." Arthur produced a small folder from the case and handed it to the Extractor. "I have a job offer in waiting. I'd like to work with you, Mr Cobb. As your Point Man."_

_Cobb stared at the folder for a moment before bringing his eyes back up to Arthur. "What makes you think I want to train you again?"_

_Arthur paused for a moment, clearly thinking through the correct answers. After a while, he looked at Cobb, his jaw set. "Because you're not particularly fond of me. And I'm not crazy about you either. But we both have an extrordinary talent. Together, we'd be the best."_

_Folding his arms across his chest, Cobb stared at Arthur, his eyes narrowing slightly. He fought the urge not to laugh when Arthur returned the glare with equal frown, engaging the two men in a staring contest. After a few blank moments, Cobb let out a small chuckle._

_"Tell me. Why the red die?...Artie." Cobb took great joy in the small shudder Arthur gave._

_"Please. Don't call me that."_

"Hey! You!"

Cobb sat up instantly to see a brutish-looking worker standing by his door, wearing a dark glare.

"What?" Cobb asked, a slight bitter tinge in his voice.

"You've got a visitor. Let's go," the man demanded.

A visitor. Cobb paused for a moment, before sitting up and walking towards the door.

"Hands out," the guard barked at him.

Cobb sighed. "Seriously?"

"Now."

Reluctantly, Cobb held out his hands as a pair of tight handcuffs were linked around his wrists. As his arms fell, he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder push him towards the door. As he was pushed out of the ward, Cobb suddenly felt very unnerved. He wasn't expecting any visits. When he'd found that he was on his way to submission, he'd forced Miles to promise that he wouldn't visit. Nor would the kids. He couldn't- wouldn't expose them to this. So with that in place, who would visit him? He'd distanced himself from everyone in his life during his life, no family, no friends. Everyone that he saw regularly was in here with him.

* * *

Arthur had spent the day with Ariadne, eating and walking with her. He would not leave her. She was clearly upset, and Arthur for the life of him figure out what had made her like this. It may have just been the circumstances they were under, but maybe it was something else. In the afternoon, they'd wound up hand in hand sitting on the grass. Ariadne was picking bits up with her fingers and throwing them away half-heartedly.

"Do you wish you'd done differently?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the ground.

She looked up, her eyes confused. "Done what differently?"

"Do you wish you hadn't taken the Fischer job," he clarified. "Maybe you wouldn't be here if you hadn't."

She was quiet for a few moments, continuing her work in picking bits of grass from the ground. "...No. I wouldn't have done differently. Regardless of the consoquences, I've loved every single moment of doing what I do. It's pure creation, remember?"

"I remember." He looked up. "But...surely, this-" He gestured around them. "-Isn't worth it?"

Instead of replying, she simply observed him for a moment, taking in his expression. "Do you think I should have done it differently?"

His brow furrowed. "Well...I can't say. I do feel partly guilty in allowing Cobb do pull you into this. But we couldn't have accomplished the job without you. I just...don't think you deserve what you're getting."

After a moment, she frowned. "Just because these people don't have the mental capacity to have a little imagination, it doesn't mean that we did anything wrong. I know this is awful, but I wouldn't take back any choices I made. Not for one second."

After a gap of silence, he gave her a small smile. "...There you are."

"What?"

Slowly, he reached forward and placed his hand gently on her cheek. The movement shocked her, but she wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, she didn't mind at all. It felt...nice. He smiled.

"I thought that maybe this place would get the better of you. But I shouldn't have been so doubtful. You're strong, Ariadne. Stubborn, too. But just then, I saw a little part of the old you." Moving the other hand, he placed it on her other cheek, turning her face towards him, locking her dark eyes with his. "Don't ever let them get a hold on you. You have such..." His thumb traced along the skin of her cheek, and Ariadne could swear that she hadn't breathed in over 50 seconds. "...A brilliant mind. A wonderful, beautiful, **amazing** mind. Don't let them take any of that away. Promise me."

She couldn't speak. Her breath only came out as a small sqeaking noise.

"Promise me," he repeated, his voice more demanding.

"I...I promise."

An obnoxious silence lingered between the two, Arthur's hands never falling as he took in her features. The loose brown curls that fell just below her shoulders, her plump, deliciously soft-looking lips. The tiny brown and amber flecks hidden in her eyes. He found himself being pulled in- an invisible force pulling on his being. He became just close enough to catch her breath on his cheek, spreading a warm tingle down his spine. And then, just when he thought they couldn't possibly get any closer...

She closed her eyes.

He blinked. His hands that were once gently caressing her soft cheeks, had moved up into her hair, tangling themselves in the thick brown mass. Not roughly, but passionate none the less. He couldn't deny anything now. He'd only be lying. Seeing her eyelashes flicker as she waited, he realised that he'd taken too long already. Leaning forward, he could hear her small breaths come out in quiet pants. He kept going until their lips were only inches apart, his hands running along the nape of her neck, gently gathering fistfuls of hair. Just a few more breaths away from connection.

Until she pulled away.

Then, he was left with a large space between them, a confused expression, and a slight feeling of emptiness and dejection. They stared at each other for a moment, and Arthur didn't know whether to feel relieved or heartbroken.

"Ari?" he asked quietly, his hands once again falling to her now pink cheeks.

Her large eyes blinked a few times, before quickly whipping her head the other way, straight out of his reach. His hands suddenly felt cold and empty without her warm cheeks between them. They fell limply by his sides.

"...I'm sorry, Arthur," she mumbled, so quietly that he almost didn't hear it. "I can't."

She sounded so tiny. So broken.

"..." He didn't respond. His mind was running with accusations and ideas of where he went wrong. What he said. What he did. All he could think of was why she wouldn't kiss him. How she hadn't responded to his touch.

Suddenly, the air was knocked from him as he was yanked up from the ground by his collar. Lifted to his feet, he fell against the large figure looming over him.

"What the fuck is going on here?" he spat, pointing an accusing finger towards Ariadne, who herself was being hoisted up by a large worker. They were all the same, angry and aggressive.

Arthur frowned at the man, roughly grabbing Ariadne. _His Ariadne. _She yelped out in pain as large, forceful hands pulled her up by her hair- hair that he had been lovingly running his fingers through, just a moment before.

"I thought we established the rules of this insitution quite clearly." Arthur felt a hand twist his wrist backwards, sending a sharp shooting pain up his arm, causing him to hiss loudly. "Do we need to remind you?"

"No..." Arthur muttered.

"You're coming with us- you have a visitor."

* * *

_Please review! I got something good heading your way in the next chapter..._


	11. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**Reviews mean the world to me, so please drop one by. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Cobb found himself sighing a heavy relief as he saw his Point Man and Architect hastily walk into the tiny room. He stood from his chair and quickly wrapped his arms around the younger man, who returned the hug, briefly, but meaningful.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Pulling away, Arthur nodded. "For now." He reached to his side and swiftly grabbed Ariadne's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Cobb didn't miss the movement, but he didn't comment.

"Do you have any idea what this is about?" the Extractor asked, growing more anxious by the second.

"Not a clue. But I guess we'll soon find out."

The door swung open, and Ariadne leaned into Arthur's side a little more, a welcomed gesture by the Point Man. Eames stormed in, a sour look on his normally composed face.

"I don't like this, not one bit," he stated.

Cobb shook his head. "No, no, this is good. Progressive. This might just help us out of here."

"Doubtful," Arthur said, his voice bitter.

"Who would come to visit us?" Ariadne asked. "Miles? Saito? Yusuf?"

Arthur answered her question with the shake of his head. "No. If Yusuf had any sense, he'd been running for the hills right now. And Saito cut his ties with us as soon as the job was over."

"I told Miles not to come," Cobb said quietly, running a hand through his hair. "...I can't have my family exposed to this."

Arthur turned fully to the older man, his eyes suddenly determained and focused, far more than they had been during the previous days. "Have you come up with a plan yet?" he asked.

"Plan for what?"

"Escape, of course."

Cobb sighed heavily, his chest falling. "I've been waiting. Waiting for a safer chance out."

Eames clicked his heels on the dirty ground, shaking his head grimly. "I had to say it, Dom. I don't think there is a safe way out of this. It's escape or nothing."

Ariadne sighed, her shoulder's falling in a movement of sadness. "If we stay here, we may as well be in Limbo. It's practically the same, our minds being twisted and fading against our will. There's nothing here.." Her voice broke off at the end, and she swallowed, realising how dry her throat had become.

"Just be thankful this is reality. That means there is a way out of this," Cobb tried to reassure.

Arthur's eyes flickered, his lips spread into a tight white line. "I hope so," he replied sourly.

"Eames, what about your little spy? Can't he help us out?" Cobb asked, his eyes hopeful.

Eames' eyes narrowed in thought and pursed his lips in concentration. He finally spoke. "I think there's a limit of how much I can ask from that man. I don't want to willingly place all my trust in someone who works here," Eames said.

Arthur nodded. "I agree with him. That's not wise to ask for escape from an employee."

"Ah, thank you, Arthur. Always appreciated." Eames turned to the younger man, sending the smallest of smirks his way. A sign of the old Eames coming back.

The room grew quiet once more as the door opened. A large, familiar brute was standing on the other side, his eyes sharp and dangerous.

"Sit," he barked. His voice was void of emotion, except perhaps anger, his order simple and clear. One by one, the team fell into a chair, the tension slowly devouring each person.

Cobb was anxious. The person who put them here, was about to be revealed. The person who had sumitted him to this hell. Of course, it could be anyone. An old accomplice, an employer of a failed job, or even a forgotten enemy. They had so many.

The brute turned behind him and gave a small nod to an unseen character. "We're right outside if anything goes down," he warned.

"Thank you, gentlemen," a voice spoke. Within moments, a figure appeared at the door. A figure that only Arthur and Cobb had the displeasure of remembering. Cobb blinked in astonishment as the man walked in, shutting the door behind him.

"...Nash?" he asked.

Nash, who seemed to have a new-found confidence about him, offered Cobb a small smirk. "The one and only."

Ariadne noticed the sudden change of atmosphere in the room. She had no idea who this man was, but she remembered his name being uttered once ore twice during the Fischer job. There was obvious history between the three men. A history that's probably best not discovered. She eyed the man closely. Weedy, cheaply-dressed. She found it hard to believe that this man would have even crossed paths with the same professional, suave men she normally worked with. Seeing Cobb's studden distress, she turned her attention to the Point Man next to her.

Arthur was all but glaring at the man, his eyes aimed towards this unfamiliar figure. She wondered what she could do to comfort him. But as if on cue, Arthur reached over from under the table and clasped her hand in his, linking their fingers.

"...We thought you were dead," Cobb replied, his voice a mixture of confusion and pure disbelief. "We saw you being taken to Cobal for-"

"I know what was supposed to happen," Nash cut the Extractor off. This time, he sounded bitter. Scornful. It was the voice of a man who had nothing but hate in his mind. "But Cobal offered me a second chance. Turns out, your lives are more valuable to them than mine, so they made a deal."

This time, Arthur spoke. Ariadne could feel the stiffness and tension in his body, as his hand wrapped tightly around hers. "Let me guess. Our lives for yours?" He spoke through gritted teeth.

Nash nodded in return. "They figured that if I could help get to you, then I might be worth keeping."

Cobb leaned forward, his hands clasped together. "But Cobal never got us in the end. The institute did." His voice was quiet, calm almost.

Nash, keeping a distance from the Extractor, leaned back, his arms folding across his chest. "The FBI had become suspicious. Cobal didn't want any messy hands, so we came up with an elaborate revenge scheme."

"This isn't revenge, Nash. This is hell," Arthur suddenly spat, the hatred in his eyes enough to frighten the petite Architect next to him.

"Nash, as someone who works in the dream-sharing community, you should be aware that this is the cruellest thing you could do to a person," Cobb said, his voice stronger than before.

"Cobal loved it," Nash said simply, one side of his lips upturning into a evil grin.

Arthur shook his head, his brow furrowed. "They would, wouldn't they? They're just as blood sucking as you."

"Charming."

Silence was shared between all in the room, until finally, Cobb let his head fall as he exhaled a heavy, tired sigh.

"Well, you got us. You successfully got your revenge on Arthur and I. But what about Ariadne and Eames? They had nothing to do with Saito's job."

Nash's eyes flickered to the two. Eames turned his head, unwilling to meet the eyes of their captor. Ariadne was the opposite, unable to take her eyes away, wondering how one person could truly find the blackness in their being to do this to a group of people. He caught her eyes and held it for a few seconds, before a small sneer appeared on the Point Man's face. Daring him to even speak to the Architect.

Nash eventually turned his attention back to Cobb. "That was Cobal's idea. Got to hand it to them, they know how to get under people's skin."

Arthur spoke next. "That's not fair. That's heartless. I understand why you'd want to do this to me, but Cobb and the others? They have families, children!" Cobb turned to the younger man and gave him a small look. A look that only the two friends could understand.

Nash raised his eyebrows and stood, placing his pockets into his cheaply tailored suit pants. "I can see you're upset. I should go before I really get you down. Besides..." He shot Arthur a hateful scowl. "I have a job in Italy that needs finishing."

"You're still working as an Architect? I'm surprised people are hiring you," Arthur bit back.

Replying with a small snigger, Nash hovered before the Point Man. "I would be offended, but seeing you now..." His looked Arthur's form up and down. "My pity can only deepen."

Turning, the sardonic man made his way to the door. Arthur quickly rose, his hands gripping the table, turning his knuckles white.

"Nash," he demanded, catching the man's attention. Nash turned.

Arthur met his stare with equal frown, his firey eyes burning into Nash's form. "When I get out..." His voice was deep, and bitter. "...I will kill you for what you've done."

Nobody but Arthur caught the flash of uncertainty in Nash's eyes before he turned his back. When the door had slammed shut, and the room had yet again fallen into a deep silence, Cobb turned to Arthur, his eyes flickering to the floor.

"Art, when we're next with each other, I need to talk to you." Casting a glance at Ariadne and Eames, Cobb muttered under his breath. "...Alone."


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**Sorry if this is kind of an information dump, but they need an escape plan. They shall not be in here forever, that I can assure you. But who's to say that they will _all_ get out? EH?**

**Anyway, please enjoy, and review if you have a spare moment. Many thanks for reading!**

* * *

True to his word, Arthur did find a time to speak alone with the Extractor. He'd left Ariadne in the eye of Eames, forcing him to promise his upmost attention and energy into the young Architect's care until he returned. He later found Cobb wondering mindlessly in the gardens, the most private place they would be able to speak in the entire damn place.

He joined him in his walk, engaging in a few small words until they were completely sure that they had some security in talking together privately. Fortunately for them, the workers were scarce that aftenoon, so they were able to talk quite freely about their planning. It was cold, and the thin, grey hospital clothing offered no warmth, but Arthur would wait as long as he had to in order for them to create something, anything that would help them.

They'd been walking for a while, before Cobb turned to him and spoke quietly. "I've got a plan," he said.

Arthur was instantly intrigued. He'd been waiting for Cobb's plan for days, and the tension and need for escape was slowly burning in his veins. "Go ahead," he encouraged.

Cobb's jaw was set, an obvious anxiety growing. "I know it's risky, but it our only out. If we can get Eames' little mole-"

"John," Arthur confirmed. A Point Man always knew the details, and always, _always_ fed them to the Extractor. A force of habit.

Cobb nodded, appricative of Arthur's perceptive nature. "Right. If we can get him to 'forget' to lock our cells one night, we can meet in one of the wards. We'd need the key for the main gate."

Arthur's mouth twisted into a thoughtful expression. "Well, one of the guards probably have that. If we find out which one, we can get Eames to-"

"No. Too dangerous," Cobb brushed off.

Arthur frowned. "Eames is a thief. He's an expert at pick-pocketing."

"But there are far too many workers around. Someone would notice."

"Perhaps we can take him down on the night. Four against one."

"...That's better," Cobb faintly approved. "And we'd need weapons, just in case we run into any trouble."

"Cobb, I doubt they'd have any guns here."

"I'm not talking about guns," Cobb replied slowly. "When I was in a session with Carter, I was drugged. Syringes, Arthur. They're everywhere."

Arthur was silent for a moment, his mind slowly processing the information. The two had spent years defining and developing plans for countless extractions, and it was almost a second nature to them now. They were able to pick up each other's ideas after seconds. After a gap, his face was graced by an impressed smirk.

"So we drug the guards. That's brilliant," he praised.

"With that in place, we might just be able to escape."

Arthur's mind suddenly clicked, reminding him of another key factor. "Wait, Cobb. There are cameras everywhere. We'll be seen."

"Not necessarily. We have a talented Architect. If we get a blueprint of the hospital, Ariadne can track a safe route."

Arthur nodded, but still looked doubtful. "How are we going to get a blueprint?"

Cobb grew silence, his mind turning. "There's one in Carter's office. I'm sure of it. Whoever gets called in there next, can get it."

Silence fell between the two, Arthur's dark eyes catching Cobb's icy ones in a tentative look. Both men understood the gravity of the situation, and the risks involved.

After a while, Arthur spoke quietly. "...This is dangerous."

Cobb shrugged. "It's our only chance."

"But once we're out...how do we actually leave? We can't walk for miles for God-knows-how-long."

Cobb's face was hesitant. He turned his attention to his shoes, lightly kicking the floor in admitted cluelessness. "...I don't know. We'll figure that out when we get there. Our priority is getting out of those gates." He looked up, catching the Point Man's attention once more. "We'll brief the others when we're next all together."

"When are we going to try this?"

"As soon as we can. As soon as we have the prints, then we can get started," Cobb assured. He broke off into a deep sigh, letting his shoulders fall.

They both walked in silence for a while, simply indulging in the company they were missing. It was almost nostalgic, reminding them of the days when they would simply walk together, lightly discussing Mal, or the children, or sharing a friendly joke against Eames. It had all changed now. So much. The buisness they had once joined for the thrill and love of the impossible, had now turned against them in horrible, frightening ways. Ways that had affected the others as much as themselves. It was a job where people changed, sometimes for the better, and sometimes for the worst. Taking just as many lives as it creates.

After all, for every dream that is created, one has to end.

"Promise me something, Arthur," Cobb finally said. His voice was soft, hesitant almost.

"Anything," Arthur replied, his whole being ready for any request the Extractor might make. It was his job after all, to obey any order from his superior.

Cobb didn't speak for a moment, his eyes flickering along the ground. When he opened his mouth, his voice was faulty, an unfamiliar sound to the Point Man. "Promise me that you'll get the others out. Regardless of what happens to me."

Arthur blinked, not fully understanding the meaning of what he had just heard. He quickly shook his head. "That won't be necessary. We'll all get out."

"But if-"

Arthur shook his head again, his time more furiously. In complete and utter discontempt of the idea. "No. I'm not doing that. No 'what if's'. As your Point Man, I promise that I will get everyone out..." His eyes flickered back to meet Cobb's, his expression grim. "...Even if it means that I don't."

"Arthur. I've had my chances. You're still young, still able to do brilliant things."

Arthur knew the Extractor well enough to understand that any decisions he made we final. But this one pained him more than any other. The idea of losing such a dear friend made him sick to his stomach. Swallowing, he tried to think of any way he could convince the older man otherwise. "But...James and Phi-"

A heavy sigh cut Arthur off. Cobb's lips spread into a thin, white line, the dark lines under his eyes highlighted by the stress of the subject. "I know. Believe me, it's not something I want to think about. But they have Miles and their grandmother. And you, of course. I know they'll be safe. If I have to make sure that the rest of you get out, then I will."

Arthur quickly grew annoyed by Cobb's damn persistance. "I have nothing on the outside, except a hotel room and a briefcase," he snapped. "Why do you care?" His was was bitter, close to breaking.

Cobb caught the Point Man's anger, and gave him a sympathetic, small smile. "Because, despite what we've had to go through...you're my best friend." Arthur blinked, causing Cobb to wear an amused smirk. "You're thick-skinned, and stubborn. You've gone through more as a young man than most people go through by the time they're ninety. The good and bad. And most of it's my fault. For my causes." His shoulder's straightened, the words carrying an incredible weight. "I owe you this."

"If I let you stay behind, then I wouldn't be doing my job right," Arthur retorted, a sudden bitterness in his voice as his face quickly darkened. "...Or maybe this is your way of being a coward." The words were sour, and they were meant to hurt. Meant to sting the Extractor into finding some sense in his ridiculous promise.

Cobb however, only tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes towards the younger man. "...Art. It's okay," he said gently. "I know you're scared."

Arthur's jaw tightened, a flash of anger running through his eyes. "...You don't know what I'm feeling," he replied, just short of snapping.

Cobb remained calm, his face gentle and understanding. "I do. I've known you long enough to understand how you're feeling. You're scared. Anxious. Worried. Angry. You're only trying to hide it for the others. I have so much respect and admiration for you, Arthur. The way you place the team before yourself."

Arthur felt sick. A large, digusting feeling gathered itself deep in his gut, knowing that Cobb was winning. He bit the inside of his cheek just to keep from pouncing at Cobb, trying to punch some fucking sense into his stupid mind. He realised in horror, that the back of his eyes were stinging, a feeling that he hadn't felt in years. Tears building up, as his throat started to close.

Cobb caught the movement, and knew the deep turmoil that Arthur was now drowning in. He stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on the younger man's shoulder. "But don't conceal what you're feeling, just because you're afraid. I know how much you try to hide yourself, but sometimes it's just better to let go."

Arthur quickly ducked his head, horror filling his body as he realised that tears were now free falling down his face. How childish and stupid he felt, knowing that he hadn't cried in years, only now to be torn apart by a few words.

It wasn't that he was out of control, or angry. He was completely terrified at the idea of losing such a close friend. Someone who'd saved his life at the beginning, and was once again doing it at the end. They had no idea what would happen if they tried to escape, but the thought that Cobb valued Arthur's life more than his own was overwhelming. Never had he had someone care about him this much.

"Twelve years, Cobb," he muttered, trying to fight down the remaining tears. "Twelve years of running, could all be wasted if we don't do this right. They're relying on me. Eames. Ari."

"Nobody is _relying_ on you," Cobb replied, calmly. "You take it upon yourself to protect the team. Something that everybody is grateful for."

"What if I fail? The one time it matters?" Arthur spat, getting angrier with himself each passing second. "This isn't a dream. Nobody is going to wake up."

Cobb didn't reply to that. How could he? The realisation was staring him fat in the face. A cold wind blew past, causing both men to shiver.

"Don't think about it," he instructed. "Our main focus right now is getting the blueprints to the hospital."

Arthur nodded weakly. "Okay."

For a moment, it was silent. Neither said a word as they realised that a plan had been formulated. A chance. A slim one, but a chance none the less.

Cobb looked up, catching Arthur's eyes. A look that only those two could ever share. "God forbid that we should ever have to go our seperate ways...I'd miss you. Not just as a Point Man, but as an old friend."

Arthur nodded, knowing that he didn't have to reciprocate. Cobb already knew. Pulling back slightly, he straightened his shoulders and held out his hand firmly, his face spreading into a warm small. Never reaching his eyes, but still very much defined. Cobb smirked, letting out a dry laugh. He held his hand out, and caught Arthur's in a tight handshake. The best exchange of trust either person could think of.

"...Thank you, Dom," Arthur finally spoke.

"For what?"

Shrugging, Arthur gave him a small grin. "For everything."


	13. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**Quite short, and I apologise for that, but this chapter flowed quite naturally while I was writing it. AND FOR GOD'S SAKE, NEVER DISTURB THE FLOW. ****Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy, and please, if you have a spare second, leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks!**

* * *

**Pacient 52- J. Eames**

**16th October, 4:32 pm.**

_"Alright, Mr Eames. Just speak directly into the microphone. Now, I'm going to ask you a few simple questions, okay?" _

_"Hmm."_

_"What is your full name?"_

_"Jonathan William Eames."_

_"Where were you born?"_

_"London, England."_

_"Can you tell me the names of the people you work with?"_

_"...Dominic Cobb, Arthur Falcone and Ariadne Peterson."_

_"What about your parent's names?"_

_"Lillian Elizabeth Matthews, and Richard Lewis Eames."_

_"Well done. Now, can you tell me about your childhood?"_

_"I suppose I don't have a choice, really."_

_"Not really, no."_

_"Well then, I guess I'd better start. It was alright, growing up. We weren't the richest people in the world, but we got by. I had loving parents."_

_"But?"_

_"Yes, there's always a 'but', isn't there?...Well...my father got involved with a...gang of sorts. The only way to get them off our backs was to..."_

_"..."_

_"..."_

_"Mr Eames? Please, continue."_

_"...Right. Um...well, in the end, I was sent off to work for these people. All sorts of illegal work." _

_"That lead onto bigger things...eventually, dreamsh-"_

_"Dreamsharing."_

_"...Yeah."_

_"Hmm. I've read all about your little dream fantasy. Would you like to elaborate?"_

_"Elaborate on what, theres a fuck lot of it."_

_"Well, for example, tell me about these things you call 'projections'."_

_"...Projections are part of the dreamer's subconcious. When the dreamer becomes aware, they attack."_

_"So they're people?"_

_"Images of people, yes."_

_"Right. And tell me about your job as a..."_

_"Forger."_

_"Yes."_

_"...I can go into a person's dream, and fully adapt myself to form into a part of their subconcious. Different images of people."_

_"Like a shape shifter?"_

_"We don't like to call it that. But yes, in a nutshell."_

_"Right."_

_"You don't sound convinced."_

_"...No, Mr Eames. I'm not. You see, it appears to me, that both of these aspects of your dreamsharing world can be contributed to your development as a schizophrenic."_

_"...A what?"_

_"I also think that you've created these 'rules' as a substitution for your guilt. Guilt of all the illegal work you do."_

_"What the hell are you on about?"_

_"I understand that you hang out with a group of people. You all have problems-"_

_"We don't have any mental problems."_

_"Please, let me finish. You all found that creating this dream world for yourselves would make you feel important. Powerful. In control. While your 'friends' have to deal with issues such as anger, depression, delusions, your problems basically consist of heavy schizophrenia and split personalities, causing your violent persona."_

_"I'm not schizophrenic! For christ's sake, can't you people see that there is nothing wrong with me or my teammates?"_

_"All the evidence is pointing against you."_

_"You people are so obtuse! Wake up and try to consider the possibilities that-"_

_"Mr Eames, please don't get angry, I'm just a psyciatrist."_

_"No. Trust me, I'm not angry. You would know if I was angry."_

_"Is that a threat?"_

_"Yes. Of course."_

_"I'm done. Get me away from this freak, now."_

* * *

"That is the stupidest plan I've ever heard!" Eames snapped, waving his fork around the place. "Are you crazy? That's fucking sucicide, that is."

Cobb frowned, a large feeling of disappointment at the Forger's lack of enthusiasm hitting him. "Eames, that's the only plan we've got at the moment."

"Yes, and it's a shit plan," Eames retorted, looking back down at the white table top.

Arthur's eyes narrowed, already an irritation spreading. "I don't see you coming up with anything."

"It's called being realistic, little Arthur."

Arthur gave him a dry laugh, mocking almost. "This coming from the man who heavily bashed me for having a lack of imagination?"

"Now I can see that you have quite a lot of imagination if you think that plan will work," Eames spat back. His eyes narrowed, sending the younger man an almost cruel look. "Maybe you really are crazy. Maybe these people have it spot on."

Arthur looked at Eames with disbelief, his eyes widening slightly. He muttered under his breath, "How dare you, you piece of sh-"

"Stop it!" Ariadne hissed, cutting him off. "People are beginning to stare."

"Of course they're fucking staring, Ariadne," Eames spat. "They're loonies!"

Ariadne shot her head towards him, a hostile look in her eyes. "They have a plan, you jerk," she retorted. "Just listen and stop drawing everyone's attention."

"Their _plan_ will probably get us killed, princess," Eames replied, his tone mocking. "You and me both."

Arthur glared at the Forger. "You-"

"Eames, please," Cobb interjected, trying to cool down the heated conversation. "Just consider this," he pleaded.

Eames grew quiet for a moment, his eyes narrow in thought. Finally, he looked up, his jaw set. "Yes. I'll go along with it. Fuck, I'll even be the one to get the blueprints, but I do not agree with this."

"We don't need you to agree with this, we just need you to do it," Arthur spoke bitterly. "So man up, and start acting like a part of this team."

"What team?" Eames laughed. "This is ridiculous, there is no team anymore! Everyone is in this for their own good." He shot a look towards the Extractor, a sour look that Cobb hated to see. "Cobb wants to get to his kids, you want to get out so you can pursue your little rivalry with that old Architect of yours, while Ariadne is perfectly happy to follow you around if it improves her chances of getting a quick fu-"

"Eames, you are so clueless," Ariadne suddenly snapped. "They're getting to you! This isn't you! You would never say things like this."

His face darkened, his teeth gritting together. "Maybe this is just a side of me you haven't seen before."

"Stop it," Cobb snapped. "All of you."

All grew quiet. A thick, unpleasant tension grew between the four, almost as if a venom had spread among them. Ariadne sighed quietly, and looked up towards the door, where two workers stood, one of them sickeningly familiar. A shiver ran down her spine, remembering the way he'd touched her, rough and uncaring. The pain and nails scraped across her skin, and unwelcome hands explored carelessly around her body.

She swallowed, a sick feeling building in her stomach. She couldn't tell Arthur, or the others. She couldn't bring herself to find the strength to say it aloud, which would only make it more real. At least in dreams, the nightmares were never real. Reaching under the table, she grasped the Point Man's hand, trying to find some comfort.

Arthur turned and saw her pale expression. "Ari? Are you alright?" he asked gently, his voice quiet, only meant for her.

She nodded, taking solace in the feel of his hand clasping around hers. "...Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"So we all know the plan?" Cobb asked aloud, his voice like a silent plead.

"Yeah," Eames muttered, his eyes still burning intently into his shoes, never bringing his eyes back up to his fellow team members.

Cobb nodded. "Good. So the next one of us to pay a visit to Carter's office- get those blueprints."

"What if he sees?" Ariadne asked, her quiet voice tinged with fear.

"Don't let him see," Cobb replied simply, it being the only answer he could give. It gave no comfort to anyone else. Eames narrowed his eyes and rose from his seat, practically knocking the chair back. The others watched in silence as he marched off, his shoulders tense with an angry heat.

As he left, Arthur turned to the Extractor and gave him a grim stare, his jaw grinding. "Cobb, Eames is-"

"I know," Cobb replied, reaching his hand up into his hair, smoothing out the blonde mass. A heavy sigh erruped his shoulders. "We have to do this right, and we have to do this quickly. Or else we'll all end up losing our heads."


	14. Chapter 14

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

Apologies for the rather long delay on this chapter, but it was rather hard to write. Hopefully this will give it the kick-start it needs into the solution for the escape. Thanks for reading, and please, let me know what you think!

* * *

"You think it's a good plan, right?" Arthur asked, kicking his feet along the pathway.

Ariadne nodded. "Of course. Anything that gives us a shot of getting out of this place is a good plan." Seeing Arthur's small grimace, she placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Ignore Eames, he's not himself." She knew that the Point Man was slowly getting worse. Physically, he seemed so much weaker than she was used to. It was unnerving, seeing his brown eyes clouded over with tiredness and stress, and his normal designer suit attire to be replaced with sickly hospital clothes.

It was not how she was used to seeing the Point Man. She remembered a strong, controlled gentleman who seemed to know the answer to everything. He could force even the toughest of men into cowardice with just one look. Who could talk his way out of anything. That only seemed like a memory now, the old Arthur being backed away furthur and furthur into what this place had made him.

"I know," Arthur sighed. "God, it seems like everything started going wrong after the Fischer job." He looked down, his lips spreading into a tight line. He seemed distant. Perhaps it was his clash with the Forger, or maybe it was his lack of faith in the plan that he and Cobb had conducted. Ariadne knew however, that the sooner they got out, then the sooner they could all return to the small sense of normality they'd preserved for themselves.

"I don't think that's true," she said gently. "Cobb got back to his kids, Fischer got closure, and we all got a load of money." She'd tried to add the humour in her voice, but it somehow fell flat and unnoticed as Arthur continued to stare at the ground in deep dispair.

"I suppose," he mumbled.

"You can't always pinpoint where things go wrong."

"I wouldn't be a very good Point Man if I couldn't do that."

She didn't know what to say to that. She felt as if she were somehow making the situation worse, as opposed to helping the Point Man, which is what she'd set out to do. Feeling useless, she sighed. "Personally, I think this whole situation started from cruelness and a bitter person."

A chord in the converstation changed as soon as she'd said it. Arthur's steps had suddenly slowed, and his expression had quickly darkened into a hateful look that Ariadne didn't particularly care for. He could be rather frightening when he wanted to be."Nash," he muttered, venom positively dripping in his words. "I never liked him."

"Then why did you work with him?"

"We needed an Architect. Fast."

"Well, if you ever need an Architect, I'm here," she said, a small smile lightly playing on her features.

Arthur's expression suddenly turned into one of deep thought. "Ariadne, if- when we get out of here, do you think...you'd like to work a few extractions?" he spoke very slowly, as if he were afraid to ask. Afraid of what she might say.

"I was thinking about it, yes." She shrugged, letting her shoulders rise and fall. The subject matter had played across her mind many times before."I just figured that if a job came along, someone would come and find me."

"I would have. I just wasn't sure if that was what you wanted," he said gently. He then let a small smile pull at the corner of his lips. "We'd be lucky to have an amazing Architect, such as yourself."

Ariadne rolled her eyes, hearing the same thing once more. As confident as she seemed, the young Architect was still cursed with the same self-doubt and lack of belief that everyone had. "You keep saying that, when I doubt I'm any better than any other Architects you've worked with."

Arthur instantly frowned, crinkling his features. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," he said. "You're the best I've ever worked with, and I know Cobb feels the same way. Your designs were amazing, and your use of mazes and paradoxes are phenominal. Just about saved my ass on the Second Level."

"Glad to hear it."

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and didn't let it go until they began walking once more. Ariadne remembered the Second Level vividly. Despite the fact that the First had nearly killed Satio, the next one down had seemed more dangerous to her. They knew what would happen if they messed up. To her, knowledge was far more frightening than cluelessness. At least if you had no idea, then you had a calm sense of mind. And the Mr Charles gambit was too risky, she could tell. She remembered how nervous she felt, how uncomfortable she'd been sitting in the open with the Point Man, just waiting for confirmation that something had gone wrong. But he had managed to calm her, with his calm tone, his seemingly cool exterior, and above all, one kiss. A quick one-liner aftwards and she had almost forgotten that they were on a life-threatening job.

But what was most strange, was that he seemed to completely forget about it afterwards. Acting as if it never happened.

"You kissed me," she said suddenly. It was so abrubt, that she quickly blushed and wished she hadn't said anything. But it was too late, and the statement hung bluntly in the air between them. Arthur turned and looked at her from over his shoulder. His eyebrows shot up and a slight red tinge crept up his neck.

"...What?" he echoed, his voice quieter than before.

"On the second level. You...kissed me," she repeated, hesitant. "Why?"

Arthur blinked, before straightening his shoulders. His eyes softened, his gentle expression still not slowing Ariadne's racing thoughts. He finally spoke, his voice quiet."...Because I wanted to."

Ariadne couldn't let her shoulders relax. "I don't know what you mean by that."

Arthur gave her a small shrug. "Neither do I."

Letting her expression form into a small frown, Ariadne tilted her head. "...Did you mean it?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Did you mean it? The kiss."

Arthur looked rather clueless. "I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't mean it."

"You never acted on it afterwards," she stated.

He sighed, letting his head fall, growing tired with the complication of the matter. "It's a lot more complex than that."

"No it's not," Ariadne shot back. "Complications and complexities come and go, but you should always be able to see your feelings clearly."

"I wanted to kiss you yesterday." They both grew quiet. Ariadne blinked, stunned. Arthur caught her eyes, quietly studying her face. "I thought that's what you wanted too." A small grimace grew on his features. "But I guess I was wrong."

"Arthur-" She couldn't respond. How was she supposed to answer that? He wasn't wrong, they _had _started something the previous day, and she knew exactly what they would have done. It seemed right, her and Arthur. But in the end, she couldn't do it. She simply could not allow herself to be distracted when they had so much at stake. Distractions would not bode well in their favour. And besides, how was she supposed to let him be with her? Touch her? Kiss her? She couldn't, not after what she'd been through. The feeling of dirty hands on her body was still too prominent to allow her to be comfortable with him. With anyone. Why would he want her now? Now that she'd been tainted, scarred. She wondered if she would ever feel comfort or pleasure in being with the Point Man.

She wanted the conversation to drop. She wished she'd never brought it up, then maybe she would have this sick, grinding feeling in her stomach. But seeing Arthur's waiting face forced her to continue. "You can't just _want_ to kiss me," she said, feeling incredibly feeble in her response. "We haven't seen each other since the Fischer job, and this isn't exactly the most romantic thing on my mind. I don't want to be lead on, Arthur. I don't deserve that."

Upon hearing this, Arthur frowned, creasing his features. "Who said anything about leading you on?" he replied, a bitter tone in his voice. "What if-" He stopped, a look of frustration growing on him.

Ariadne waited. "What if what?"

"Nothing," he muttered, turning his head. "Just forget it."

Ariadne quickly grew angry. She hated this feeling of him leaving her out of the loop. Never letting her in. "You can be a real jerk, Arthur," she spat.

He turned, the previous annoyance on his face softening. "What is this really about, Ari?" he asked, his voice gentler.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice snappy. She was determined to stay mad, but the soft gaze he was giving her made it very difficult.

"Something's not right. I know it." He reached out, his hands closing over her arms in a firm grasp. "Talk to me, tell me what's going on. You can trust me."

Her throat quickly became dry. "...I can't."

He pulled her into him, enveloping her in a strong embrace. As she melted into him, she realised that she felt the safest she had in days, comforted in a way that only Arthur could offer. She did trust him, in ways that she never could with another person.

He nodded. "Yes, you can."

* * *

Eames found himself being roughly pushed forward, tight handcuffs linking his hands together, preventing any angry outburst. The bright lights of the hallway were practically burning his eyes.

A tinge of guilt crept up on him as he remembered the previous conversation with the rest of the team. He truly believed that the plan that Arthur and Cobb had come up with was far too risky, and the cons had too big a consequence to even consider. But if they needed him to take part in their scheme, then what choice did he have? Even the slimmest of chances still provided an opportunity, no matter how small.

Being escorted down the hallway, Eames saw a familiar face from a distance. John- the one person who actually cared in this god-forsaken place.

"Hey, newbie!" the guard called.

Eames watched as John looked up. Both men caught eyes, and it was only a second of recognition that Eames could catch before the younger man had to hide it. "Hmm?"

The guard roughly pushed Eames forward, a dark grin spreading on his face. "Take this one down to the medic. _Needs his meds._" His voice was taunting, and Eames found great difficulty in denying himself the pleasure of using some of his colourful language.

John didn't look at Eames, remaining seemingly clueless. "Sure."

Without another word, the guard turned and sauntered off, his back disappearing down the hallway. After a few moments, Eames looked up, seeing the other man's sympathetic look.

"Hanging in there?" he asked, twirling his finger, motioning for Eames to turn.

Eames complied, turning and holding out his hands. It not bring the first time he had been confined in handcuffs. "Just barely," he muttered.

"Don't worry. If you and your friends don't belong here, then you will get out." John's voice tried to sound reassuring, but even the Forger could hear the undeniable doubt in his tone.

Eames felt the cuffs click open and the cool air hitting the tender skin. He brought his hands forward and rubbed his wrists, feeling a little less confined. Turning, he straightening himself. The others needed him for this.

"Speaking of which," he said, his voice slow, hesitant. "We need your help with something."

John quirked an eyebrow, his arms folding across his chest. "Like a favour?"

Eames lifted his arm and brought it around to the back of his neck. He nodded. "...Yeah. Just a ..._tiny_ favour."

* * *

"A few days ago," she began, ignoring the almost raspy quality in her voice. "I was in my room." She paused.

"Go on," Arthur gently encouraged.

"A worker came in. He was..." She grimaced. "Awful. Really agressive."

Arthur frowned. "Did he hurt you?" he asked. She noted the strange, ugly tone in his words as he spoke.

"...Yes."

"What did he do?" he asked, his dark eyes searching her face.

"He hit me...called me names..." She bit her lip, realising that small, prickling tears were forming, stinging her eyes. Talking about it was exactly how she predicted. It only made the images come back. How hot breaths had burned against her skin, sharp nails digging into her arms, like tiny knives. How she'd called for help, but no such thing had come.

"Go on, it's okay," Arthur assured, the pad of his thumb rubbing small circles against her arm.

Ariadne let a few tears fall before blurting out, "He- oh, Arthur!"

She fell into him, her shoulders shaking. Feeling his warm arms wrap around her was comforting, but simply not enough.

Confused, Arthur reached forward a hand and tentatively stroked her hair, brushing it out of her face. He pressed his lips against her forehead, so light, it was barely a ghost of a kiss. "Shh. I'm here."

"I tried to get out- he pinned me to the bed and- he...wouldn't...stop..." she choked between sobs, her hands crasping around the horrible fabric of his shirt, holding herself up.

Arthur looked down at her, his face hardening. His expression darkened in a frightening, dangerous glare. A awful feeling began to stir inside him, already feeling that he knew what had terrified her so. But he had to hear her say it. He had to hear the words. "What did he do to you, Ari?"

* * *

"Well?"

"Well. I...I don't really know what to say." The young worker's eyes were wide, his words stuttering slightly. "It's such a big..."

"Request?"

"Risk."

"I know." Eames sighed. "But it's the only chance we have. All we need you to do, is to forget to lock our doors one night. Nobody will even know it was you."

John looked doubtful. "Geez, I don't know..."

"Please," Eames muttered. "You know we aren't supposed to be here. We have a shot at getting out, but we need you to help." He looked forward, his eyes pleading. He knew that this would most likely be their only chance, and it was down to him to get the ball rolling. "Please."

John turned, and began pacing the floor. Eames waited quietly until he spoke. "How are you planning on getting out of the gates? They're locked 24/7."

"Ambush the guard," he replied.

"Christ..." John sighed, shaking his head. "...You might get yourselves killed. Or worse."

"Worse? What could be worse?" Eames asked, his eyes shining in astonishment.

"You don't know what they do here, Eames. What they _really _do," John replied, his face undeniably grim. His voice a far darker tone than Eames had ever heard him use. "That's why it's best to keep your head down and your mouth shut. Not to draw attention on yourselves." He looked up, his jaw tight. "Not to try and escape."

"But we're not sick! We're not mentally unstable, we're normal!" Eames spluttered, feeling the frustration return. "We can do this, if you give us that chance."

For a while, nobody spoke. Eames stood, his chest heaving with heavy breaths, desperation growing by the second.

After a few moments, John sighed and let his arms fall. "...I must be out of my mind," he muttered. He looked up, giving Eames a small shrug. "Fine. I'll do it."

It took a fair amount of restraint for Eames not to run and hug him. "Yes! Thank you!"

"But listen," John said, his face stern. "You _must _do everything I tell you, because you _will_ need my help."

Eames nodded. "Yes, yes, of course."

"But how are you going to get the keys to the car?"

The Forger's expression of gratitude and relief quickly ran into confusion. "What car?" he echoed.

The door slammed open, and both men froze. A large, red-faced worker ran in, never even casting a glance at Eames.

"Daniels! We need you outside!" he barked.

John cast Eames a quick look. "What, why?"

"There's a fight in the front! Some crazy just lost it! Attacking a worker! Now!"


	15. Chapter 15

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.**

**I thought I'd give you all a heads-up. This chapter's pretty full on.** I've recieved numerous PM's over the course of this story with complaints about the extreme subject nature of this fic. But, you know, I have a warning on the story description, and I've always informed my readers that this can get incredibly dark. My whole purpose of writing this story was because I wanted to explore what I could write, and see if I could go beyond my comfort-zone. I always do my research on whatever I'm writing, and I never go out to offend anybody. There are people out there who enjoy this story, and like this sort of stuff, but if not, then it's the simple matter of not reading it.

**And to all those who are _still_ reading this, thank you very much, and I am sorry for the delay. Please, enjoy this chapter.**

**And hey, to all those who celebrate, have a Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays. Bit out of context, but still.**

* * *

Rage. Pure, unfiltered rage ran through Arthur's veins as he heard a satisfying thud hit the gound. He fell on his knees, grabbing the large, but dazed man by his collar. There was nothing but silence around him, and he guessed he had only a few good minutes with the man before others showed up. Any damage he did now, had to be done well. Leaning over the writhing body, Arthur did nothing but stare down. He would not give him the satisfaction of seeing his anger. The Point Man knew how to frighten a person. His face remained expressionless, his jaw locked so tight, he could feel his teeth grinding together.

"He-" Twisting the shirt collar around the man's throat, Arthur cut him off.

"No, no, no," he muttered through gritted teeth. "You don't get to call for help. That's what she did."

Raising his fist, he slammed it down into the man's nose. The sickening sound of the bone breaking was almost melodic to him. Blood stained his knuckles. He could hear frantic feet now, coming closer and several voices yelling. Some were laughing manically, some where practically cheering him on, whilst some faint voices were barking at him to stop.

But he would not stop. He brought his hands up to the guard's neck and tightly grasped his hands around. He was fully prepared to throttle the man until he stopped moving altogether.

"Arthur!" A pair of hands threw themselves around Arthur's shoulders, yanking him back from the guard and onto the ground. Arthur looked up, and saw Eames' rough hands restraining his shoulders.

"Eames, let me go!"

"Calm down," Eames said. "You're getting yourself into all sorts of trouble here."

"Get off me."

He heard Ariadne's voice next, a frantic call. "Arthur! Stop!"

Arthur looked up and sent a cold glare to the Forger above him. How dare he deprive him of this attack. Eames sent a dark look straight back down to him, his grip never loosening from the Point Man's shoulders.

"Calm down, mate."

Another pair of hands wrapped around his shoulders, frantically trying to hold him back. "Come on, Arthur, stop this." Arthur shot his glance behind him for a second to see John trying to restrain him.

Feeling many eyes on him, he still couldn't find himself to stop. Despite the consequences he knew where there, for Arthur at that moment, revenge was the only option. How could he let this man simply wonder away after what he did?

But sadly, Arthur found that the hands holding him back were strong enough to prevent him from continuing. And soon, he caught sight of several hospital workers storming their way over, obciously hearing the commotion from miles away. But even still, he continued to fight back.

He thrashed until he felt the sharp pick of metal against the skin of his neck from behind him. An instant, cooling sensation ran through his body, rendering him motionless. Of course, he thought. Silence was their only way of control. Never genuine care or help. Only force.

He could only just hear the faint voices of his teammates calling his name until darkness took him over altogether.

* * *

Cobb watched helplessly as Arthur was dragged away. What had come over his normally composed Point Man? Turning, he caught sight of Ariadne, her eyes wide and panicked, shaking her head to herself.

"Oh no, oh no..."

Stepping forward, he reached out and placed his hands firmly on her shoulders. "Ari! What happened?" he asked.

Ariadne simply continued to stare after Arthur, her breaths quick and short. "Where are they taking him? Help him!" she cried, before letting her head fall into her hands. "It's my fault!"

Seeing the tiny frame of the young woman shake with tears, Cobb felt a sharp pang of guilt. He quickly pulled her closely into him in a comforting embrace. "Shh, it's okay."

The brief moment of comfort however, was instantly inturrupted as Cobb watched a large, brutish worker stomp over, his face in a deep scowl.

"You! Come here," he barked, pointing at the young woman.

As he reached out, he placed a tight grasp around her arm, making Ariadne wince away. "Hey! Stop!"

Cobb frowned and tried to defend the frightened Architect. "Watch it," he warned.

The worker turned, his eyes dark and angry. "Back off, or you'll be next."

Finding himself at a loss, Cobb remained still as Ariadne was pulled away from him. As a leader, and a friend, he'd never felt so useless. So cowardly.

A large hand fell on his shoulder. Turning, Cobb caught Eames' sharp grey eyes staring into him.

"This plan of yours better work, Dom," he muttered, before turning, and leaving the Extractor alone in the cold.

* * *

Arthur awoke to bright, burning lights. He blinked, and his instinct demanded that he use his hand to block the harsh light. But as he pulled his arm up, he found that it wouldn't move. He quickly looked down, and found that his hands had been restrained to a bed of sorts. Tied far too tightly against the frame. As he furthur examined himself, he realised in horror that he couldn't move his body at all. He'd been held down. "Wha-"

He looked up, and caught image of figures walking over him, their shapes cast down by the bright lights above him. Masks covered their mouths, and horrifying tools lay beside him, just waiting to be used. Arthur's eyes widened, and looked up frantically at the moving people above him.

"Make sure those restraints are tight enough," one said to another. They worked around him, ignoring his panicked looks.

Arthur tugged at his hands, suddenly feeling too uncomfortable. Caged. "Where am I?" he demanded. "What are you doing?"

Nobody seemed to even notice him, as one figure moved over to a complex machine on the other side of the room. "What voltage are you thinking?"

An older, stricter looking man above him responded in a thick, careless voice. "I'd say a set 100."

Arthur's head shot up in realisation. Voltage? Restraints? His chest suddenly felt tighter, and his breaths became shallow and quick."No..." he whispered. "No, let me out." His tugging of the restraints quickly became a lot harder.

Another figure hovered above him. "Easy, now."

In a daze of panic and fear unlike anything he'd ever felt, Arthur began thrashing and pulling around him. "Let me go! No!"

"Shh."

"About 2 seconds should do it."

Never before had Arthur felt his kind of fear. Raw, and rare, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop what was about to happen. He wanted out. Out for everything he'd done to lead him up to his moment. A child-like terror ran through his veins.

"Stop! This isn't-"

He found himself being cut off as a hard, uncomfortable object was thrust into his mouth, rendering him silent.

* * *

Ariadne winced as Carter tightened his grip on her wrist.

"You see what happens when you and your friends don't behave?" he whispered tauntingly into her ear.

Ariadne watched in horror through the glass, her hands pressed up against the window. She felt awful, useless, watching the Point Man thrash and panic. She'd never seen anyone look so scared. The fear made him look weaker, younger than the man she knew. The image was haunting. She wanted to run in, help him and hold him. But instead she felt like a worthless by-stander. "Please, don't do this!" she begged.

"Just watch," he grinned. "It's rather brilliant, actually. The advances that have been made in this kind of techology are..."

His voice faded out to her. She was past the point in listening. She continued to watch helplessly as Arthur kicked and yelled around him, to no attention from the various doctors working.

This wasn't right in anyway. In no context should this have been acceptable. As hypocritical as she found she was being, Ariadne believed with every fibre of her body that this was morally disgusting.

But it all continued to get worse as she watched the doctors around him place frightening equiptment around him, attached things to his body, fiddled with machines and devices that looked a thousand times more complex than the PASIV. Slowly, the figures around him began to fade out, and began exiting through doors, leaving only three to deal with the rest.

"Arthur!" she pleaded, pounding her fist against the glass in a panic.

It all near broke her heart as she watched Arthur's fear increase, his eyes following one figure as he hovered by a device, and reached his hand over to the dials.

She wasn't sure how long it was before he flicked the switch, but it seemed like only a second later, a loud whirring sound echoed through the room, followed by a loud beeping sound.

"No!" she cried.

A second later, Arthur seemed to kick in to life.

She found herself gasping in horror as she watched Arthur's body suddenly turn into spasms. Quick, sharp movements as he convulsed. It was horrifying. She'd seen Arthur move and fight so gracefully in the past, only now to see him writhing and shaking in such an extreme way. She found herself frozen to the spot.

Carter chuckled, before leaning over and hissing with an evil tone, "You don't want us to have to do this again, do you?"

Ariadne felt anger beating through her. She swung around, and shot her eyes towards Anderson. "You bastard!" she yelled. "Get him out of there!"

"You'll keep the rest of your friends under control, yes?"

Ariadne nodded in response, frantic. "Yes! I'll do anything! Just let him go!"

"Good girl," Carter replied, his voice approving. Turning, he spoke to another worker beside him. "Bring him out," he muttered, before pushing Ariadne's weakened frame towards him. "Get her out of here."


End file.
